


Security

by dindjarindiaries



Category: The Mandalorian, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Touch, Nondescriptive Sexual Content, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 229,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dindjarindiaries/pseuds/dindjarindiaries
Summary: You had heard the story: the best bounty hunter in the parsec, the Mandalorian (Din Djarin), had acquired the asset—with the largest reward the parsec had ever seen. However, when you see this Mandalorian trying to rescue the child from captivity, you can’t help accompanying him on his run from the law. When he discovers that you‘re a fighter, he agrees to hire you as an addition to his team and as an extra protector over the child—not realizing that, as a runaway princess from an Old Republic planet, you’ve got a bounty of your own hanging over your head. With death creeping around each corner accompanied by a tracking fob, you’re not sure what your fate is—but you surely won’t let it take any one of you anytime soon.
Relationships: Din Djarin/F!Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You, The Mandalorian/F!Reader, The Mandalorian/Reader
Comments: 717
Kudos: 1613





	1. The Mandalorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess thinks about the story of the Mandalorian and his asset—and ends up having to help him escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEASON ONE begins here!

“Nothin’? He gave you nothin’? It’s ‘cause of that damn chrome bucket, huh?”

You can’t help eavesdropping into the conversation of the cantina, keeping your eyes fixed on your drink as your ears perk up to the voices of the two men sitting beside you.

“Yep. Said we don’t get nothin’ right now ‘cause we couldn’t get that asset in time.”

You wrinkle your brow. Although the backgrounds of these two men are unknown to you, you know exactly what they’re talking about. It’d be hard not to know about the Mandalorian bounty hunter and the asset whilst living on Nevarro these days.

All you know is that this Mandalorian had acquired a highly demanded asset, and many said it was a child of sorts. He’d gotten a hell of a reward for it, too, and the other bounty hunters of Nevarro were humming with jealousy. You, though, can’t help feeling remorseful. This child must not have any parents or a family, and now they’re in the hands of someone who’s likely to do them harm. No bounties escape easily, and this is just a child. You can’t help thinking of your own past, when you were in a similar situation. Everyone had wanted a princess. Thankfully, you’re also a fighter, and hiding out as a pretend bounty hunter on Nevarro surprisingly keeps you quite safe.

The door of the cantina opens, and everyone suddenly goes silent. You look up from your drink, your eyes landing on the glowing figure who’s walking in: the Mandalorian. His armor is donned in the chrome way the men beside you had described it—no doubt as a result of the beskar steel he’d acquired from his bounty. You nearly feel sickened, and you force yourself to look back at your drink as you take another swig of it.

When Greef Karga begins announcing the success of the Mandalorian to the entire cantina, you find yourself nearly slamming your credits onto the bar and making a dash for the door. Your body feels numb as you tuck your hands into the pockets of your vest. You can’t help thinking about the poor child, likely suffering somewhere at the hands of a money-hungry individual. What if they’re being sold as a slave? Or abused for information?

 _What information?_ you ask yourself. _The Empire’s dead. Who would do something like that?_

Still, you can’t shake the weight off. You know it’s because you doubt the ideas of the Empire are completely dead. You still feel it: the darkness that clouded your childhood. The ideas are still circulating, even out here.

As you’re walking through the town aimlessly, trying to clear your thoughts, you see a bright shine out of the corner of your eye. You look and spot what’s evidently a helmet—looking very similar to that of the Mandalorian you just ran away from. Yet, this one’s smaller, looking almost as if it belongs to a child. It looks at you, and then it disappears behind a curtain in a flash. You furrow your brow. _There must’ve been someone inside that helmet. Was it another Mandalorian?_

You didn’t know there were other Mandalorians—especially on Nevarro. Perhaps it was a child who’d somehow acquired a Mandalorian helmet from the Great Purge. Deciding on the simpler answer, you continue strolling around to ease your unshakeable nerves.

Though, even as the hours go by, you can’t. You haven’t had a purpose other than hiding out almost your whole life. Along the way, you’ve helped many—sometimes even working to free innocent people from groups like hostile tribes or gangs—and so you find it hard to sit around while a child is somewhere suffering. You don’t understand how the bounty hunters can let it go so easily, _especially_ the one who brought it in. From what you had been told about the Mandalorians in your youth, they were the best warriors in the galaxy, and often would come to the rescue of villages being attacked by the Empire. How could this Mandalorian go against something like that, and instead put someone—a _child_ —at risk?

You sigh, looking at the darkened town around you. It’s risky to be out at night, so you begin to venture back to the abandoned Imperial post you call your home. However, on your way, you suddenly see a commotion, and you duck behind the nearest building for cover as you observe further. You see a large crowd of bounty hunters surrounding someone, but you can’t tell who it is. After squinting a bit and seeing his armor catch light, your eyes widen. It’s the Mandalorian—and he’s holding a bundle.

_The child? Is he trying to rescue it?_

If that’s what he’s doing, then it looks like he’s in trouble, and you know that the only way to rid of the weight you’ve been feeling ever since you learned of the asset is to help him somehow.

“The kid’s coming with me,” you hear the Mandalorian say.

“If you truly care about the kid, then you’ll put it on the speeder.” The voice undoubtedly belongs to Greef Karga, who’s out of your sight.

_Why is he so insistent upon keeping this kid on Nevarro?_

“How do I know I can trust you?” the Mandalorian asks after a pause.

“Because I’m your only hope.”

You don’t think the Mandalorian can trust him, and you watch in horror as he appears to be contemplating the offer. He’s standing near the speeder, looking as if he’s about to place the child in it. _Don’t do it_ , you beg inside your head. _Please don’t give in_.

A few minutes ago, you didn’t think you could ever root for the Mandalorian. Now, it’s evident that your quick judgments about him had been incorrect—and perhaps saving the child had been his purpose all along.

After moments of contemplation, you see the Mandalorian quickly pull out his blaster before jumping into the speeder with the child, and the other bounty hunters begin firing shots relentlessly. You hold back a gasp, knowing that him and the child are both against unlikely odds and need backup—but you alone won’t be of much help.

Suddenly, you remember the Mandalorian helmet from before. Maybe, just maybe, if you had been wrong before, there’s more Mandalorians around—and they can help their ally. Instantly, you hurry away towards the place you’d spotted the helmet, trying your best to find the location in the darkened town. Soon, you fall upon the concealing curtain, pulling it aside as you dare to walk past it.

Your feet trod down a spiraling staircase, and you’re met with a tunnel that stretches almost endlessly in two opposite directions. Upon your arrival, you’re instantly met with the turning heads of Mandalorians, and your eyes widen at the massive amount. You thought they’d all been killed. They had just been hiding.

One of the Mandalorians approaches you quickly, and you take a few steps back as their large figure towers over you. “Who are you?” their deep, modulated voice questions you sharply. “How did you find us?”

“I—I stumbled across here by accident,” you rush out, knowing you don’t have much time. “But there’s trouble up in the town, and you ought to know—.”

“ _How_ did you _find_ us?” the Mandalorian demands again, stepping forward. The action forces your back up against the wall of the tunnel, and fear shoots through you. Your hand subconsciously lands on the blaster in your holster.

“Let her speak,” a softer modulated voice speaks out. Everyone’s heads turn towards the speaker, who emerges from a gap in the tunnel. She dons a golden helmet, and it manages to glitter in the darkness of the tunnel as she approaches you and the large Mandalorian. “What’s this trouble you speak of?”

“It’s another Mandalorian,” you explain. “He’s in trouble. He’s trying to save the child—you know, the asset everyone talks about—and now he’s pinned by other bounty hunters.”

The golden Mandalorian still has all eyes drawn to her, and you hear her sigh lightly—though it’s not in exasperation. “Din Djarin,” you manage to hear her mumble, though you’re almost sure she meant to say it to herself. She faces the gathered crowd of Mandalorians, beginning to address them. “A member of the tribe is in need of aid. You must go to help them.”

“But we’ll have to find a new place for the covert!” the Mandalorian across from you exclaims.

“This is the Way,” the golden Mandalorian states.

“This is the Way,” the rest of the Mandalorians in the tunnel agree. They begin to file out towards an exit further away than the way you’d come in, and you feel the need to help them. Before you can scurry away, though, the golden Mandalorian stops you with a gentle touch on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says, her modulated voice heavy with gratitude. “You have helped us uphold our code, and therefore earn the respect and security of the tribe.”

You offer her a nod. “No worries. It’s the right thing to do. But, I need to go help them.”

“No,” the Mandalorian insists. “They won’t need your aid. But, _he_ will.”

“He?” you echo.

“Din Djarin,” the Mandalorian states. “The Mandalorian you spoke of. He will need help keeping the child safe, for he cannot safely provide both for himself and the child on the run without someone else. If you would like to help, that is how.”

You contemplate her words for a moment. She’s suggesting that you leave anything you might have here behind and join a rogue bounty hunter on the run—when him and the child will evidently be pursued by anyone who previously acquired a tracking fob. This includes skilled bounty hunters, people you’ve been trying to avoid ever since you were orphaned.

Yet, you have nothing to leave behind, and you feel a responsibility to help this child, who’s in a similar situation to your own from the past. You remember how desperately you wanted someone to help you in those days. So, you give the Mandalorian a nod. “I will.”

“Then I will tell the tribe to inform Din Djarin that you will be joining him.” She pauses, reaching out her hand to give you something. You accept it, looking at your hand to see the crafting of a Mythosaur sitting there. “Show this to him to prove I have sent you. Good luck.”

You give her another nod, clutching the metal in your fist and finally chasing after the other Mandalorians. Your head is spinning, and your thoughts are impossible to keep up with. You’re not quite sure what you’re getting yourself into, but you figure it’s for a good cause—and it’s the most helpful thing you’ve done in much too long. _Maybe this is finally the purpose I’ve been searching for_ , you hope to yourself.

The Mandalorians lead you to an alternate exit of the tunnels, and they manage to fly out with their jetpacks. Since you don’t have one, you climb your way out, finding yourself near the hangar of ships. Taking shelter from the chaotic shooting occurring nearby, you slowly inch yourself closer to the site, trying to find the Mandalorian from earlier— _Din Djarin_ , you remind yourself. You wonder why no one else has ever known his name, or at least if they had known it, never used it.

Finally, you see the scene. Din is still trapped in the speeder, and the bounty hunters are closing in. Yet, upon the arrival of the Mandalorians, Din becomes the least of the hunters’ concerns. You wait nearby, knowing you’ll have to follow Din out once the time comes.

The Mandalorian who challenged you earlier lands near Din, and you can hear his voice speaking to him. “We were summoned by a human who will assist you with the child,” the Mandalorian tells him. “The Armorer has said that she will join you on your travels and help to protect it.”

“You’ll have to relocate the covert,” Din responds, not appearing to be fazed by the news of your sudden companionship on his future journey.

“This is the Way,” the Mandalorian insists.

“This is the Way,” Din remarks, grabbing the bundle securely in his arms before escaping the speeder. He runs in the direction of a ship, and that’s when you pursue him. You catch up to him, but upon being spotted by his peripherals, he pulls his blaster on you. You raise your hands in immediate surrender.

“I’m not a bounty hunter!” you rush out in reassurance, making the Mythosaur in your hand visible to him. “I’m the one the Mandalorian told you about!”

Din’s visor looks at your hand, and he lowers his blaster as he takes a moment to study you. Then, with a quick nod, he continues in the direction of his ship. You follow him closely, and soon you scurry into the hatch of a large and slightly run-down ship. However, before you can make it much farther into the ship, you hear the click of a blaster.

“Hold it, Mando.” Greef Karga’s voice stops Din in his tracks, and you follow suit. You both turn around, seeing the Guild manager standing there with his blaster aimed at Din. He furrows his brow as he spots you but chooses to ignore your presence for the moment. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but then _you_ broke the code.”

Din says nothing, but his helmet shifts slightly to his left. You’re standing to his right, and so you peer over to see what he could be looking at. Karga gives him a warning look, and without hesitation, Din launches a grapple hook at a panel on the wall. The area becomes full of blinding smoke, and you duck for cover as Karga fires blind shots. You wait with a racing heart, narrowing your eyes to look for Din and the child.

Yet, Din takes you by surprise first, firing a shot that lands directly on Karga’s chest and knocks him off the ship. Din wastes no time closing the hatch and hurrying further into the ship, and you blindly follow him. He climbs up a ladder into the cockpit, and you ascend the ladder after him. It’s almost as if your presence is unnoticed as he sets the child in the passenger seat and lands himself into the pilot’s seat, preparing for prompt takeoff.

You wait until the ship is well on its way off Nevarro to start creeping forward more, heading towards the child on the seat. Its green ears perk up as it catches sight of you, and your heart swells at the sight of it. The large brown eyes look at you with excitement—especially as you allow an inevitable smile to spread across your lips—and it coos with interest. You reach out to take it in your hands.

However, before you can even get close to doing so, Din spins around rapidly in his chair. The action startles you, and you jump back a step. His visor is staring right at you, and you shyly clasp your hands behind your back.

“I’m sorry, I… I should’ve asked or something,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. When Din doesn’t respond, you try to fill the tense air more. “I know this must be weird for you, to just randomly have a stranger with you, but I promise I have no ill intentions, and I actually won’t even require any pay—.”

“Who are you?” Din’s modulated voice questions you. It’s gruff, and it turns something inside of your stomach. You swallow hard, somehow intimidated by the stone-cold glare of his helmet. You introduce yourself and try to keep your voice strong. Din spins back around in his chair, continuing to pilot as he works his way towards a launch into hyperspace. “Who do you work for?”

“No one,” you say. “I’m just… a survivor, I suppose.”

“How did you find the covert?”

“Well, that’s actually a funny story—.”

“Why are you helping me?” Din cuts off your words with a firm statement of desperate curiosity. His back is still turned to you as he navigates his way out of Nevarro’s atmosphere.

“Because,” you begin, looking down at the child in the chair next to you. It’s looking up at you, its head tilting as it coos again. You smile and run your fingers over one of its ears. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Din’s silent for a moment, waiting as the ship launches into hyperspace. He then turns back around, his visor facing you once again as he tilts his head slightly. “The Armorer told you to help me.”

You figure he’s talking about the golden Mandalorian from the tunnel. “She only told me to help you because I asked her how I could. She said I had to join you and the child, that you would need help protecting it on this journey in order to provide for both yourself and the child.”

Din switches his attention to the child, who’s started staring at something on the dashboard. His fingers unscrew a circular sphere from a lever, and he brings it over to the child’s outstretched hand. “Welcome to the crew.” He gives you a nod, and you offer one in return.

You’re not sure what’s in store for you on this journey, but you know one thing for sure: you never expected to be on the run with a Mandalorian.


	2. The Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din shows the princess around the Crest and tries to figure out why the hell she’s chosen to go on the run with him.

Din studies you curiously as your eyes observe the child playing with the silver sphere. It looks up at you, cooing affectionately. You look at Din, and he sees it as a request for permission to hold it. He offers you a simple nod and continues to watch closely as you gingerly pick up the green bundle of joy. The child seems to rest easy in your arms, laughing as it shows the sphere to you. You giggle in return, poking the ball and then the tip of the child’s nose. It lets out another laugh of pure joy.

Din’s head is tilted to the side as he continues to watch the scene. He’s helplessly curious about you. Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s seen you before, but he’s trying to recall when. The gears of his mind continue to turn as he watches the child use its free hand to touch the braid that’s resting on your shoulder, and Din tries not to let his attention wander to the small pieces of fallen hair that frame your face. He observes the long-sleeve, vest, and pants that cling tight to your body, and somehow that becomes his key: he remembers seeing you just earlier in the day. You’d left the cantina just after he’d walked in. He’d only gotten a quick glance at you then, but the outfit and hair alone were enough to jog his memory. He had, deep down, been hoping that Karga’s overdramatic greeting hadn’t been the factor that drove you away.

Deciding he’s been silent long enough, Din rises from his chair. You immediately draw your attention away from the child and look at him. Even the child seems to get the memo, and he looks at his fatherly figure with curious eyes.

“I’ll show you around,” is all Din says, taking the child from your arms and climbing down from the cockpit. He sets the child onto the floor as you join them, finally taking the time to look around. Din is glad to see a type of admiration in your eyes as you observe the space; most would trash it.

“This is a lot of space for just one person,” you comment absentmindedly, blinking a few times shortly after. “I suppose it’s good, now that you have _three_.”

“Two,” Din corrects you. “The child is small. It won’t need much room.”

You nod, and Din has no trouble seeing the way you’re evidently trying to suppress some type of excitement. He doesn’t understand: _why would someone ever be excited to venture around with me? Especially while I’m on the run?_ His thoughts are interrupted by you gesturing towards a room just beside the ladder leading to the cockpit. “I’m assuming this is the vac-tube.”

Din nods at you, holding back a chuckle at your comment. He presses a few buttons on his armor’s control pad, and the doors to his armory creak open. Your face lights up at the massive number of weapons that sit there, and Din feels oddly comfortable with the fact that you’re so delighted at the sight of them.

“These ought to be handy,” you say, stepping forward a bit to observe them further.

Din nods again, continuing to look at you. He’s still curious about you; all he knows is your name. How did you find him? What did you do before you decided to venture out with him? Why the hell would you ever do something like this out of the blue? “You’re a fighter?” Din’s question comes out sounding more like a statement than a question.

“Yes, I was trained from a young age,” you answer him. “That’s why I have this—.” You begin to reach for your holster, and Din can’t control his response. He instantly goes for his and starts to take the blaster out, but you put your hands up in surrender before he can even think of lifting it.

Din feels embarrassed immediately, and he puts the blaster away in a quick motion. “Sorry. Instinct.”

“I understand,” you remark with a small laugh. “That wasn’t the best idea, on my part. I would’ve done the same thing.” You sigh lightly. “You, evidently, now know that I have a blaster.”

“What else have you used?”

You shrug. “Whatever I have to. I can use anything. Though, the only other thing I carry is a knife.” This time, you’ve learned your lesson, and Din is pleased to see that you don’t go for the knife.

Din gives you a nod. “Good.” He then closes the armory, taking you through the rest of the ship. He points out the supplies, including food and medicine kits, two different sleeping areas, and all his other storage areas. When he finishes, he goes back to observing you. Your eyes are bright as you take all the new things in, and he wonders if you’ve ever been in such a high-stake situation before. He _needs_ to know more.

“Thanks for the tour,” you say, breaking your momentary silence. “I’m excited to be a part of the crew.”

Din tilts his head at you. “I’m not sure you know what you’ve signed up for.”

You frown slightly, and Din fears he’s worded his thoughts incorrectly. “I’m quite aware of your situation. Who you are and what you did wasn’t much of a secret on Nevarro.”

Din grimaces, glad that you can’t see it. He hadn’t expected you to bite back like that. “The people of Nevarro aren’t fond of me.”

“Well, you _did_ take a lot of their jobs. I guess you’re just too good at yours. And now, you’ve gotten the biggest reward in the parsec _and_ you’ve broken the code of the Guild. I don’t blame them.”

Yet, Din isn’t thinking of them any longer. He’s just curious about you. “What about you?”

You furrow your brow. “What _about_ me?”

“What did you—what _do_ you—think of me?”

He watches as you bite your lip in concentration, and it’s the first time you’ve had to look away from his visor. Din doesn’t take it as a good sign. “You?” you manage to say. “Well… I thought you must be an impressive warrior, to have done so many jobs so fast.”

Din tilts his head. “That’s it?”

You finally look back up at him, saying nothing. Din doesn’t mind, because now he has a different question.

“Why did you leave the cantina today?”

You seem taken aback by his question. Din would be afraid that he crossed a line if he wasn’t yearning so much for your answer. “You saw me there?”

“Barely. I saw you leave.”

You clear your throat, crossing your arms in a protective manner. “I was done with my drink.”

Din refuses to believe such a simple answer. He remembers now that he could practically sense the annoyance coming off you in waves in that moment. You hadn’t walked out: you’d _stalked_ out. “It wasn’t because of Karga’s words about me?”

Your eyes widen involuntarily. Din knows he’s gotten his answer and, at your silence, he continues to try to put the pieces together.

“You heard about the child. You were upset with me turning it in.”

“How could I not be?” Suddenly, you’re defensive. Din understands this; he’s picked at you long enough. “It’s a _child_. Didn’t you have any sympathy for the poor thing?”

“I did. That’s why I went back.”

“And it didn’t strike you the first time?”

Din clearly sees the fiery passion within you as you speak without holding back. “I didn’t know what to do. I was trying not to break the code.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just for _this?_ ” You hit your knuckles against the cool beskar on his shoulder.

Now, Din’s beginning to feel defensive. “I had a code to uphold, a deal I couldn’t break. Looking back now, I wouldn’t have taken it back.”

“What if you had been too late? What would you have done then?”

Din can’t think of a response. He doesn’t know. You’ve cornered him, and while he wants to lash out and protect himself from your words, he can’t—because you’re right.

Suddenly, you shake your head, as if you’re shaking all the thoughts from it. Your gaze drops as your cheeks heat up slightly. “I’m sorry, I… shouldn’t have—.”

“No,” Din interrupts firmly. “It’s alright. I understand.”

“No, it’s not okay.” You finally look back up at him. He sees a flash of sadness in your eye, but it disappears quickly. “I’m not like this. I don’t dwell on the past, and I’m not here to condemn you. I’m here to help you. And I’ll do anything you say to make that happen, and to protect that child.”

Din sees the true honesty and determination in your expression, and he begins feeling less and less skeptical about the stranger he’s brought aboard. “Thank you.” You nod in response, and after you do so, your hand flies up to suppress a yawn. Din tilts his head in sympathy. “You need rest.”

You wave your hand. “No, I’m fine! I—.”

“Please. You can rest. I still have to find a safe planet to land on for more resources.”

Din watches as you sigh, giving in to your more tired side. He leads you into the more spacious of the two rooms, where a simple cot rests with a thin blanket rolled up near it. Din doesn’t even ask if there’s anything else you need, since you’ve already assured him that the setup is perfect. As he’s about to leave the room, you stop him briefly.

“Wait!” you call softly, catching his attention. He turns around to look at you, and it’s the first time you’ve appeared to be timid. “I just really want to apologize for what I said earlier. I… I was prejudiced before, influenced by the other people of Nevarro. What you did for the child, risking your life to save it, shows me who you really are.”

Din feels a slight blush arise at your words, and he’s grateful his helmet conceals it from you. “It’s all right. Don’t worry.”

You nod. “I’ve also done things I regret in the past, and I haven’t ended up in everyone’s good graces. Don’t let it phase you.”

Din almost wants to smile at those words. “I don’t.” With that, Din turns back around, closing the door and heading for the cockpit. As he sits back down into the pilot’s chair, he lets out a sigh, his thoughts consumed only by you and your conversations. He’s still so intrigued by you, and he can’t get the image of you out of his mind. He still doesn’t quite understand why you joined in the first place. Din just wants to know _you_ , but he can’t expect you to spit out your entire life story to him within mere hours of knowing each other. He definitely wouldn’t do that.

A cooing sound interrupts his thoughts, and Din turns around to see the child poking his head out from the entrance of the cockpit. He waddles over to Din, who then picks him up and sets him on his knee. Din looks at the child, observing its endless affection and wonder. After being a foundling once, he can’t help but feel the strong urge to protect this child with everything—and, somehow, he senses that you feel the same exact way.


	3. The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess and Din have to pick up supplies—and pick up a tracking fob’s signal instead.

Your eyes open to darkness, and you have to blink a few times in order to adjust. The light blanket provided to you still covers your body, and you find that you’re surprisingly comfortable laying on the small cot. Yet, the upcoming adventures make any further rest impossible, and you hop up onto your feet without a second thought. After making your setup neat again, you press a few buttons to get the door open, and succeed after three attempts. You see Din as soon as it opens, and his head turns away from the resources he’s been looking through and towards you.

“Hi,” you greet, earning only a small nod in return. He turns back to the resources, and you almost awkwardly stand in place, waiting for him to say something— _anything_. Yet, he remains silent, and so you speak up again. “What’s the plan?”

Din takes the time to close up any of the boxes he’s opened, waiting until he’s done to face you. “Resources,” his modulated voice finally says. “The town’s not too far, so we can be quick and get to a more remote planet after.”

You give him a nod, not daring to ask what planet you’re on. You’re not familiar with the planets out here, anyway; you didn’t grow up out here. You only came here to escape. “Sounds good.”

Din then turns towards his weaponry, beginning to equip himself for the trek. You stand and wait for him, watching as he grabs a blaster and hoists his pulse rifle over his shoulder. Your mind suddenly goes to the child, and you wonder where it’s gone. Before you can ask, however, Din questions you.

“Do you want one of these?” His modulated voice is business-like, yet also curious. You sense that he wants to know what other weapons you can work with.

“I think I’m good this time around,” you assure him. You want to keep things simple. “Hopefully we don’t run into any trouble here. Thanks, though.”

Din nods, closing the doors upon your answer. He then turns to a closed door just beside it, opening it with his control pad. That’s when you finally see the child, its green ears perking up at the sight of Din standing there. It coos extra loud when it spots you, too. As Din picks it up, you smile at it, giggling as you hear it laugh happily at you. Din looks between the two of you, seeming amused at your easy chemistry.

“I can carry it, if you want,” you suggest. “Just in case something _does_ happen, and you need to use your rifle. I can handle the blaster in one hand.”

Din seems to hesitate for a second, but soon steps forward to hand the child to you. It looks up at you with its bright eyes, showing you its tiny teeth in an awkward smile. You return it and run a hand over its furry head. When you look back up at Din, you see that he’s still looking in your direction, but his helmet quickly turns to the hatch upon you noticing. He opens it, leading the way off the ship.

Your walk begins in silence, and you know you won’t be able to handle it for that long. You’re aching to know more about the mysterious man hidden behind the armor, and what could’ve possibly motivated him to do something as dramatic as breaking the code of the Guild. Yet, you’re not foolish enough to believe that you’ll get that information right away, so you try to start with some small talk, just to fill the air.

“What’s the name of the ship?” you begin, looking over at Din as you walked.

“The _Razor Crest_ ,” he answers simply. You’re about to respond, but you stop when you realize he’s about to say more. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. Most people do.”

You shrug. “I’m not as knowledgeable about ships as I am everything else, I guess.”

Din looks over at you. “Can you fly?”

“I’ve done it before,” you assure him, your eyes meeting his visor and hoping you were relatively close to making eye contact. “I’m not sure I’m actually _good_ at it, but I can do it.”

Din lets out a low chuckle—one you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t listening for it. His head looks to the path ahead of you again. “That’s good to know.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Plan on making me fly anytime soon?”

Din pauses for a moment. “Well, just in case anything happens to me, I need to know that you can—.”

“Let’s not think about that, okay?” You cut him off before he could finish. The thought of Din dying was unpleasant to you.

Din remains silent, and you wonder if he’s smiling a bit under that helmet of his at your quick remark. Your cheeks start to heat up as a result of your actions. “Sure,” his modulated voice finally assures you. Silence sits between the two of you for a while, interrupted a few times by the curious coos of the child in your arms, but it’s soon—and surprisingly—broken by Din. “You told me you were a ‘survivor.’”

You offer him a nod. “Yes, I was… well, I _am_.”

Din’s curiosity is obvious at this point as he dares to push a bit more. “What do you mean by that?”

You’re glad that he’s pushing to get more information. That means you’ll be justified to do the same to him. “It just means that I wasn’t really doing any work. I was just trying to survive.”

“How do you survive with no work?” Din doesn’t seem to understand your situation at all, nor do you expect him to.

You let out a soft sigh. “Inheritance.”

Din looks over at you once again. You return the glance, looking at his visor once again. “From your parents?”

You nod. “They left me quite a bit.”

Din nods back at you, looking straight forward. You can tell he wants to know what happened to them, but being the respectful Mandalorian that he is, he doesn’t ask further. It makes you bite back a smile.

“It’s okay,” you tell him.

He looks back over at you quickly. “What?”

You give him a small yet reassuring smile. “My parents. You can ask about them.”

Din remains quiet, and you take that as your cue to keep going.

“They were senators on Arilia,” you explain, feeling the burning gaze of delicacy Din’s giving you even though your eyes are facing forward. “I was their only child. Nine years ago, they went on a diplomatic trip to Alderaan.” You pause, swallowing hard as you recount the traumatic memories. “You can probably guess what happened after that.”

Din continues to be silent, but after a few moments of just hearing the terrain crunch under your feet, he offers a response. “I’m sorry.” His modulated voice almost sounds strained, like getting the words out of his throat is a challenge. He takes another moment or two before he speaks again. “You’re a princess?”

“I _was_ ,” you answer. “Shortly after what happened on Alderaan, I was given my parents’ inheritance and shipped off to Tatooine. Arilia didn’t make it much longer than Alderaan did.”

“Tatooine?” Din echoes. “No one ever goes there.”

“Exactly,” you say. “I was trying _not_ to be found. I was an asset of the Empire. So, some of my personnel who came with me continued the self-defense training my parents made me do on Arilia. Fighting became my coping mechanism, and I buried myself in my training.”

“How’d you get out here?” You’re glad Din has stopped holding his questions back.

“I needed to escape. Tatooine became infested with Imps, and I’d heard there were other people in a similar position to me who were in trouble. So, for a few years, I fought to free any innocent people enslaved by war, and I trained them if they needed it.”

“Why Nevarro, then?”

You sigh. “Well… I’d heard Nevarro was buzzing from the Guild, and it was far from any remaining Imperial influence in the core of the galaxy. I decided I’d go there to help any bounties who were being taken in unrightfully.”

Din finally looks away from you, his helmet facing forward again. “You don’t like bounty hunters.” His voice contains a hint of disappointment— _or is that guilt?_

“Not necessarily,” you inform him softly. “Everyone has to make a living. I just don’t like the ones who—.”

“—take a child in as bounty,” Din finishes your sentence. His modulated voice is dry.

You grimace, and guilt floods you. “I didn’t mean that yesterday,” you remind him.

“I told you, I understand. I can tell you’re a very kind and genuine person. You have every right to think that way about me.”

You’re taken aback for a moment at Din’s self-awareness and honesty. Yet, he’s still wrong. “But I don’t— _anymore_. You redeemed yourself by risking your life to save it.”

Din doesn’t speak for a moment. “I hope so,” his voice finally comes out, sounding strained again. You twist your lips in concern, hoping to comfort him more.

You don’t get the chance to, since the village Din had referenced earlier finally appears in your vision. You both close the distance without further conversation, trying to stay low profile as you begin walking through the small town. It’s about as busy as Nevarro typically is, several market stands lining the walls of cantinas and other shops. The child’s eyes are wide as it observes it all, and you can’t help smiling at its pure enthusiasm and innocence. Upon looking up, you also notice Din looking at the child. You can easily sense his connection to it, and the care he’s so deeply developed for it.

Din and you visit the most reliable stands and shops for the resources you need—food, medical necessities, and more. You offer to cover the costs with your credits, but Din denies you, and you just hope he hasn’t spent all he has left on the amount you’ve gotten. You’ve stocked up on enough to last you at least two months, if you handle it all correctly. You’re relieved to be heading back towards the _Razor Crest_ , both you and Din pulling a hovercart full of boxes. The child is cushioned between two of the boxes, giggling as you pull him along.

Before you’ve fully left the town behind, you suddenly hear a voice croak from somewhere behind you. “That couldn’t be the Princess of Arilia, could it?”

You freeze. You don’t know who’s speaking, which makes it worse. Your head whips around, and you see a Trandoshan standing there. His blaster’s drawn, and his eyes are locked on you. They’re not familiar at all, and your ears soon tune into the beeping of a tracking fob. He’s a bounty hunter—and he’s not even here for the child, who’s hidden from his sight. _He’s here for me_.

“I’m not sure who you’re talking about,” you insist, even though you know he’ll know you’re bullshitting. His tracking fob is going crazy at your presence.

The Trandoshan steps closer to you. Instantly, Din steps to your side, pulling his blaster out.

“Is there a problem?” Din’s modulated voice says. It’s low and threatening—a tone you haven’t heard from him before.

“Going to claim the bounty for yourself, huh, Mando?” the Trandoshan laughs. “Not a chance.”

“There’s no bounty to claim,” Din nearly spits out the words. “Step aside before you cause more trouble.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the Trandoshan says, and before either of you can properly react, he shoots the blaster out of your hand and lunges towards you, pressing his weapon against your head. Din points his blaster at the Trandoshan.

“Let her go,” Din insists, his modulated voice gruff.

“Put the blaster down, Mando,” the Trandoshan remarks. “Or else I’m bringing her in cold.”

You can tell Din is observing you for a plan, and you gesture with your eyes to the knife attached to his boot. His nods, understanding your cue. He begins to bend down with his hands up, setting his blaster onto the ground. As he comes back up, his hand quickly reaches for the knife, tossing it to you. You catch it gracefully by the handle and, in a single swift motion, run it into the Trandoshan’s stomach. He gasps, releasing you as he stumbles back. He drops his blaster, and you catch it midair with your free hand before sending a shot into his chest, which ultimately forces him to the ground in a smoking heap.

You turn around to celebrate your success with Din but find yourself gasping as you spot another Trandoshan coming up behind him. “Din!” you exclaim, but it’s too late. The Trandoshan hits Din hard with his fighting stick, sending him sprawling to the ground. You leap forward with a blaster shot that the Trandoshan easily dodges. He begins to flip the stick at you, and you fall back a few steps as you dodge each swing. At a free moment, you try to shoot him again, but he knocks the other Trandoshan’s blaster from your hand and kicks you to the ground. He raises the stick above his head, but before he’s able to slam it down and penetrate your chest, his image turns to ashes. You sit up as quickly as you can with the wind being knocked out of you, and you see Din standing there with his pulse rifle extended. He hoists the rifle back over his shoulder and trots over to you.

“Are you all right?” you ask him as he helps you up with a single hand.

“Fine,” he remarks with a nod. He says nothing else as he hurries back over to his hovercart, and you can understand the indirect message of urgency as you follow him back to the _Crest_. You pick up your blaster that’s laying nearby and reach for your hovercart. You’re both jogging as you hurry back, regardless of the exhaustion you feel from the fight you just gave. A prayer of gratitude crosses your lips when you spot the ship, and you speed up as you approach it. You and Din work quickly to load it up, not bothering to leave the hovercarts in a convenient location as you get ready to take off.

You sit just below the stored resources as Din sets off for hyperspace, feeding the child something small from a box of food. It giggles happily at you, causing a small smile to tug at your lips. You can’t give into its contagious happiness completely, though; the recent event is still too fresh in your mind.

You feel the _Crest_ jump into hyperspace, and Din doesn’t hesitate to practically leap his way back down to where you are. You’re almost startled by his prompt arrival, and you offer a share of the food you’ve taken out.

“Do you want to take this somewhere—?” You start to ask.

“How did you know my name?” Din demands. His voice wavers slightly.

At first, you’re confused, and then you remember—you’d shouted it out during the fight. You almost feel the color leave your face. You hope you haven’t made him break a part of his Mandalorian ways. “I—The Armorer, she told me that was your name,” you explain, stuttering in your nervousness.

Din tilts his head as he continues to look down at you. “She told you?”

You nod earnestly. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem angry. He just seems… surprised. Almost relieved, in a way.

He stays silent, but finally takes a seat near you and the child. For a while, he sits there, appearing to stare off into space with the empty visor of his. You wait for him to break the silence. “I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child.”

You look at him sympathetically. “You haven’t? Why?”

Din’s gloved hands play with each other for a moment, as if he’s deciding what he wants to say next. “The Mandalorians took me in after my parents were killed,” he finally answers. His modulated voice is quieter and softer than usual. “They didn’t address me by my name. When I was of age, I swore the Creed.”

“And ever since, you haven’t heard someone say your name or see your face,” you finish, your voice matching his same softness. He finally looks over at you, not saying anything. Your heart aches for him. You’ve both had quite a similar past: losing your parents, having to go undercover and fight in order to cope with it, and now ending up on the run for the sake of a child and its safety. You’re finally starting to understand the man underneath the beskar. “I’m sorry, Di—or, should I call you something—?”

“No, it’s fine,” Din assures you. “I don’t mind. I was just…surprised.”

“Okay,” you respond, giving him a nod. “Well, I’m sorry, Din. That must be hard for you.”

“This is the way.” Din offers you a nod in return.

You can’t help grimacing slightly at his response. It doesn’t _have_ to be “the way” for him—he could choose to end it all now if he wanted to. Instead, he remains faithful to his Creed—something that you find both sad and honorable. Yet, you soon find your mind leaving the topic as it strays to another. “Thanks for your help out there.”

“I didn’t have to do much,” Din insists. “You handled yourself well. I could’ve done more.”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to. It was my problem to handle.”

Din tilts his head at you. “No.” You raise an eyebrow in puzzlement. “You’re a part of the crew, now. The same protection that goes for the child also goes for you.”

You offer a small smile, your cheeks heating up slightly as you look at your hands. The Armorer _did_ say that you’d get the security of the tribe—which includes Din. “Thank you. The same goes for you.”

Din doesn’t respond to that. At his silence, you look back up, seeing him still looking at you. The way his helmet is tilted shows that he’s looking in a way beyond a typical glance, and because of the barrier his helmet provides, you can’t identify it. “Did you sustain any injuries from the fight?” he finally speaks up again.

You shake your head. “No.” You move a bit closer to where he’s sitting, trying to observe him so he can’t lie to you. “And you?”

“Fine,” Din insists. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

You look back at him, his visor meeting your eyes. “All right. I hope that’s the truth.”

Din nods, not breaking your glance. It lasts a bit longer than usual, and you find yourself blinking and looking away in slight embarrassment. After finally getting to know just a bit more about Din and his past, you’ve started to feel more connected to him—especially because of the similarities. You don’t want to see him suffer anymore than he’s already had to, and you know he feels the same way about you.

You just haven’t realized yet exactly how deep that sentiment will go.


	4. The Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess find themselves on Sorgan, in need of a place to lay low.

It’s been two weeks since you stopped for resources, and Din has still been looking for a good planet to hide on. You’ve made just a few pitstops, mostly landing only to stretch your legs and get a breath of fresh air. You spent no more than an hour on any planet you landed on, for fear of bounty hunters getting too close—both to the child and to you.

You’ve gotten even closer to Din over the past week, sharing conversations whenever you’re riding through hyperspace. Those conversations became more and more frequent, and you’re surprised you’ve gotten this Mandalorian to talk as much as he has. He still keeps his sentences short and to the point, but he’s elaborated quite a bit on his life before the Mandalorians and even some of the in between. You thought it would only be fair if you did the same. The more you shared, the more connected to him you felt, as you realized you’ve both suffered quite a bit from pain and loss in the past.

Once, you even heard him talk just a bit of the language of his Creed. You were sitting with the child, giving one of its long ears a stroke as it looked up at you and let out a loud coo of affection. A laugh escaped your lips involuntarily and you gave its furry head another brush. At the sight of this interaction, you heard Din mumble something, his modulated voice nearly inaudible.

“ _Copikla_ ,” he said, his helmet tilted in its gentle manner towards the both of you. Your gaze snapped up to him upon hearing the unfamiliar word. His head then straightened, as if he’d just realized what he’d said.

“ _Copikla?_ ” you echoed curiously. “What does that mean?”

Din stayed silent for a moment. “Cute,” he finally responded. “I mean, the kid. Women don’t like being called that. It’s Mando’a.”

You tilted your head at him. “You know Mando’a?”

Din shrugged. “Not much. I picked up some when I first lived with the other Mandalorians. My parents had taught me one phrase.”

“Was it that one?”

He shook his head. “It was _ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_.” His words were quite heavy with emotion as he said them.

“And what does that mean?”

Din’s helmet fell to the hands that had stopped cleaning his weapons earlier, and he simply stared at them. It seemed as if he were forcing the words out of his throat. “I love you.” He paused before adding on. “Literally, I will hold you in my heart forever.”

Your heart both warmed and ached for him. It must’ve been a phrase that was deeply personal to him, one that his parents would’ve often said to him as he grew up. He likely hadn’t heard those words since. “That’s beautiful,” you reflected. Din didn’t respond, and he went back to cleaning his weapons.

You haven’t forgotten that moment since. The way in which Din spoke the language with such gentleness and pride is still so profound to you. You wish there was a way to learn more from him and hear him speak the language more, but you believe he doesn’t usually speak it in his everyday vocabulary—and most of it only brings back painful memories. You would hate to bring those back into his mind, and so you don’t press him to speak any more than he already did that day.

You’re about to land on Sorgan, the planet Din describes as the best place to lay low with its nearly nonexistent population density. He actually calls it a backwater scughole—just the place you’re willing to hide out on. The child, evidently, has no opinion, and just excitedly coos as the _Razor Crest_ descends into a makeshift landing zone of the Sorgan woods.

Din rises from the pilot’s chair, descending his way from the cockpit. You follow him with the child tucked protectively in your arms. Din meets you at the foot of the ladder, and you gesture down at the child.

“If you want me to stay here with it, I can—.” you start to offer.

“No.” Din’s response is firm. “I can’t risk leaving you both alone here.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Din, you said it yourself. It’s a scughole here. There’s barely anyone around. Plus, you know that I can protect us just fine myself.”

“Still,” Din says stubbornly. “I’m not comfortable with letting you out of my sight… yet.”

Your cheeks start to heat up as you finally nod at him in agreement. He must be thinking of those times you told him how even with all of your training and talents in self-defense, all you really wanted most of the time before Nevarro was just to have someone to fight alongside—an extra lookout for you and the people you tried to save.

Din interrupts your thoughts by opening the hatch, letting the daylight that’s fluttering through the leaves bathe the three of you. You inhale at the sweet smell of nature, taking in the warmth the atmosphere has to offer. Your gaze drifts over to Din beside you, who watched your reaction to the planet with a curious tilt of his helmet. A pang suddenly makes itself known in your heart as you realize he can’t breathe in the air or see the surrounding nature without the filter of his helmet—and you wonder when he was last able to actually view the outside world with his own eyes.

“Let’s go,” Din finally commands, leading the way off the ship. You follow him closely, allowing the restless child to waddle beside you. As you walk, you notice Din’s left his pulse rifle behind, and you can only hope there won’t be a need for it later.

 _I’m just being paranoid_ , you tell yourself. _Din’s already said it plenty of times. There’s absolutely nobody or anything here._

The walk towards the nearby village isn’t too troubling, and you both spend it in silence, simply absorbing your surroundings. Soon, the collection of huts comes into view, and you feel a curiosity at what they entail. You make sure the child is still waddling along closely beside you as Din heads into the largest hut, and you follow him.

The smell of soup and freshly baked bread wafts into your nostrils as the sound of hearty laughter rings through your ears. The hut’s not packed with people by any means, but the ones who are sitting at tables and enjoying a meal are making their good times known. You continue to follow Din around, stopping with him as he finds an empty table. He places the child onto one of the barrel seats before letting himself sit beside you.

Suddenly, his movements freeze as he spots something beyond you. Your gaze tries to follow his, but since his visor is all you can see, it’s hard to locate exactly what he’s looking at. “What is it?” you whisper to him, your brow furrowing in puzzlement.

You can tell he’s about to reply, but he’s cut short by a waitress walking over to assist you. Din orders something for the child, but you both refuse anything for yourselves. He obviously can’t eat anything in public, and your curiosity at what Din’s spotted has left you with no appetite. As soon as she walks away, you turn back towards him.

“So—?” you begin asking.

“ _Osik_ , she’s gone,” Din grumbles, his modulated voice hushed yet frustrated as he moves to stand up.

“Who is ‘she?’ And where are you going?” Your mind is full of questions, and your heart is racing.

“A potential threat,” Din answers curtly. “I’m going to check it out. Stay with the kid.”

He then begins to walk away. You try to grab his arm and stop him, but it’s too far out of your reach. “ _Din!_ ” you whisper-yell, realizing your protest is to no avail. You let out a heavy sigh, trying not to worry about the potential danger he’s getting himself into. The waitress comes back over to give the child its small bowl of soup, and you thank her with the best fake smile you can manage before she walks away. You rest your elbows on the table, covering your face with your hands as you try not to stress about the situation at hand.

 _Who could this person be?_ your mind inquires. _And how could they already be a ‘potential threat’? What if he gets hurt?_

Another breath escapes your lips as you lift your face back up, looking to the child.

He’s not there anymore.

Your eyes nearly double in size, and you let out a curse as you rise quickly from your seat. You look around the barrels, trying to see if it wants to play an impromptu game of hide-and-seek with you. Your efforts are to no avail, as both the child and its bowl of soup have disappeared. Frantically, you make your way to the entrance of the hut, practically flying through the curtain to find the child.

The sound of nearby fighting distracts you. Your head turns to the right, and you hurry towards the source. When it suddenly stops, you feel confused, and close the distance between you and the brawlers more slowly. You step out from behind another hut, looking to see Din and a woman lying on the ground with their blasters facing each other. Their heads are turned towards none other than the child, who’s sipping its soup as if it’s enjoying an entertaining show. Din’s helmet then shifts to you.

“I thought I told you to watch it,” he says. The woman’s gaze also turns to you.

“It ran before I had the chance to catch it,” you explain, walking over to where the child’s standing.

Din sighs, putting his blaster back onto the ground. “Do you want some soup?” he addresses the woman this time.

She chuckles, dusting herself off and standing up. You hurry over to help Din up, though he tries to insist he’s fine on his own. After, you take the child into your arms, and Din leads the way back into the hut. He sits down at the same table as before, and soon it’s the four of you sitting around each other. Three out of the four of you end up with some broth.

“Sorry I came at you so hard,” the woman says to Din. Her voice is firm yet also smooth. “I figured you had a bounty on me.”

“It’s all right,” Din assures her. “I thought you were after me, too.”

There’s a brief pause, one in which you all realize you haven’t given any proper introductions. One from Din isn’t expected, so the woman decides to speak up first. “I’m Cara Dune, ex-Rebel shocktrooper.”

You note that it’s your turn to return the favor. You say your first name and keep it at that.

Cara raises an eyebrow, reflecting on your name. Her eyes then widen. “As in, the Princess? Of Arilia?” You give her a small nod. She looks amazed. “Everyone thought you were dead by now, or at least enslaved. It’s an honor, Your—.”

“Please don’t,” you insist, your cheeks growing warm. “Arilia is gone. I don’t go by those titles anymore. I’m just a survivor, now.”

Cara looks between the two of you. “How’d you end up with this one?” She gestures to Din before her gaze fixates on the child. “And _this_ one?”

Din briefly tells the story of how he acquired the child, and how you’d agreed to accompany him on the run to keep it safe. Cara then tells you both about the difficulties with her chain code, and how she’s just looking for a place to stay hidden and have a retirement of some sort. The conversation flows nicely, but once Cara finishes her broth and the talk has stopped, she stands from her seat.

“Well, it looks like we can’t all stay here,” Cara asserts. “One of us is going to have to leave, and—unless you want to go another round—I was here first.” She then walks away, leaving you to exhale deeply as you look over at Din.

“I guess we’re finding another place to go,” Din states, letting out a sigh of his own as he prepares to leave. The three of you set back out to the _Razor Crest_ , the child sleeping happily in your arms as you walk alongside Din. The sun’s setting beautifully in the sky, and you feel sad that you already must go before you can explore this mysteriously beautiful planet.

“It’s a shame people only come to this place to hide out,” you say softly, breaking the silence you and Din have been holding ever since you left the village. “It looks beautiful here.”

“Yeah,” Din agrees in a gentle tone, his modulated voice almost as airy as your own. “It’s a rarity to find beauty in this type of life.” As he says those words, he looks over at you, and you wonder if he’s inferring what you think he is. You look at your feet, you face heating up as you bite back a smile. You’re glad the shadows of the trees from the setting sun manage to hide your face from him.

Once you arrive to the _Razor Crest_ , Din asks you to properly put the child to bed as he checks the ship for any necessary repairs. You agree, staying inside to wrap the child up and stow him away on Din’s cot while he works outside in the night. As you glance down at the precious sleeping child, you feel a smile appear on your lips, and you ever so lightly brush your thumb over its furry forehead. You had really come to love this child within the past few weeks, and you know you would do anything to keep it safe, just as your parents had done for you.

Suddenly, you hear a faint commotion coming from outside the ship. You close the door to Din’s cot and walk to the hatch, making it just in time as Din walks inside. He’s leading two strangers on board, and you furrow your brow.

“What’s going on?” you ask, looking at Din for an explanation.

“These men are farmers,” Din says, handing boxes to both of them and sending them back off the ship. “They’re going to let us stay with them in the middle of nowhere in exchange for protection.”

You feel your gaze darken a bit. “Protection from what?”

Din grabs a box on his own. “A tribe of attackers,” he answers. “Nothing we can’t handle.” He then walks back down the ramp, and you sigh as you start to help loading up the cart the farmers have drawn to the ship. Before you head back up the ramp, Din stops you by gently grabbing your arm. You face him, your body almost going red-hot at his touch. He quickly drops your arm. “Sorry,” he mumbles before continuing more loudly. “I’m going to find Cara Dune. I think she could help us greatly with this job.”

You nod, agreeing with his words. “A shocktrooper should know what does the trick.” You pause, looking out into the dark surrounding wood. You then look back at him. “Please be careful.”

Din nods at you. “Don’t worry. I should be back in just a few minutes.” He gives your shoulder a pat before he turns around, heading into the woods. You grimace a bit, hoping he stays true to his word.

“Hey!” you suddenly hear one of the farmers call. You spin around, almost having forgotten that they were there. “How much should we be packing?”

You shrug, thinking of what Din would say. “As much as you can fit,” you reply.

The other farmer emerges with the child in his hands, its ears perked up as it spots you. “And what about this?”

You rush forward, reaching your arms out towards it. “I can take that,” you say with slight urgency, nestling the child into your arms. It looks up at you with bright eyes, and you sigh as you run a hand over its head. “Why didn’t you stay asleep, kiddo?”

The child coos at you in response.

You roll your eyes playfully and chuckle, continuing to help the farmers as much as you can with the limited number of arms you have available to you. You finish just as you hear footsteps approaching, and you turn around eagerly to find Din approaching with Cara beside him. Relief floods you at his arrival.

“You’re all right,” you breathe, offering a small smile as you look to Cara. “And you’re joining us!”

Cara smiles slightly back at you. “I couldn’t resist. It’s a great offer.”

With everything loaded up and the _Crest_ secured, the four of you soon hop into the remaining space of the wagon and let the farmers direct you to the middle of nowhere. The child lays on your right, and Din sits on your left. Cara sits across from the both of you, engaging in conversation until the exhaustion of the day starts to hit everyone. The child falls asleep long before everyone, and Cara’s the next one out. You can feel yourself starting to go, your mind full of the excitements of what you may find in this new village.

Little do you know, though, that as you fall asleep, Din remains awake beside you. He refuses to let himself rest until the rest of you do—specifically you. He’s satisfied when he looks over to finally see you joining in with the child and Cara, but that feeling is exchanged with surprise when your head suddenly falls to the side and rests gingerly on the cool beskar covering his shoulder. He knows you’re asleep and unable to control your actions, but it still makes him feel a strange warmth in his chest as he observes you. Din doesn’t bother to shake you off—instead remaining still so as to not wake you up—as he lets himself join in with the rest, sleeping peacefully for the first time in too long.


	5. The Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew settles into Sorgan and investigates the reports of attackers while Din gives into his protective feelings over the princess.

Din awakens from his slumber when the trees open up enough to practically blind his visor with sunlight. He blinks a few times, grateful for the filter cushioning some of the harsh light from entering his eyes. It takes a few moments for him to remember what happened before he drifted off to sleep the night before, and he looks to his side to see you—instead of resting against his shoulder—rocking the child in your arms. Its excited eyes look at the upcoming village, and yours simply watch it with amusement. Din’s heart warms at the sight, and he tries to push down the sensation. It’s too dangerous of a feeling; he needs to keep his heart as cold as his beskar if he doesn’t want to get hurt.

“Look who’s finally with us,” Cara teases from across the wagon. Din scoffs, sitting up more to show his alertness. At Cara’s words, your gaze shifts from the child to him, and he can’t help looking in your gaze to see it full of warmth.

“Rise and shine,” you say with the same teasing tone as Cara’s. “You were out for quite a bit.”

Din shrugs. “Needed it,” he replies simply. It’s true: he hasn’t gotten sufficient sleep in a long time. Even alone on the _Razor Crest_ with you and the child, he has trouble falling asleep; the nighttime is when his protective senses reach an all-time high. His dreams are filled with horrors of what can happen to you both, and so he mainly resorts to staying awake and keeping an eye out—even in the middle of hyperspace.

“Good thing you’re well-rested,” Cara comments, gesturing with her head to the nearby village. “We’re here.”

Din sighs, stretching out a bit before looking back over at you. The child lets out an affectionate coo upon seeing Din, and he finds himself smiling a bit underneath his helmet. He reaches out a gloved hand to gently stroke one of the child’s large ears, mindful of your warm gaze that’s fixated on him. Once again, he tries to shake the feeling it brings him—and he’s growing more and more unsuccessful at that.

Soon, the wagon comes to a halt. Din hops out first and helps you down, letting you use his hand as support. Cara needs no assistance, and soon the three of you are beginning to lug your belongings into the village. Din stalls back a moment to address the two farmers.

“As far as shelter goes,” Din begins, his modulated voice firm. “I need those two—,” he points out you and the child, “—to be in the same place as myself.”

The farmers nodded, rushing ahead to greet their fellow villagers before the travelers have a chance to. Din catches up to you and Cara, hoping his absence hadn’t been too noticeable.

As soon as the four of you arrive, the villagers have all grouped up to greet you warmly. Their gratitude and hospitality are obvious. Two women step forward particularly to meet you. One addresses Cara while the other approaches Din, you, and the child.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she says, her voice smooth and sweet. “My name is Omera. Allow me to show you to your hut.” She keeps a friendly smile on her face as she begins to walk towards the crowd of huts. You and Din follow her, and Din can feel your half-puzzled and half-concerned gaze on him for a moment as you walk.

Omera leads you both inside a rather small yet surprisingly spacious hut, already set with two cots and a crib for the child. Din watches as you smile gratefully at the villager. “This is perfect,” your kind voice tells her. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Omera assures you. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need. I’ll let you settle in.” Din nods at her respectfully as you say another thank-you, watching as she exits the hut.

As soon as she’s left, you turn to Din. “I don’t know why they put us in the same place,” you say, concern filling your tone. “They should know you’ll need your own space—right?”

“It’s fine,” Din assures you.

“But then you can’t take your helmet off,” you continue to rant, putting the child in the crib and facing Din directly. He can see the pure concern in your eyes now, and your arms cross over your chest as you ponder solutions. “And you need to do that to sleep… and eat… and basically do anything else like that.” You sigh, and Din opens his mouth to say something, but stops when you continue. “I’m sure there’s some extra room in Cara’s hut. I can go ask—.”

“Hey, it’s _fine_.” Din’s words are firm yet comforting. “I asked them to do this.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, your arms falling slowly to your sides. “You asked them to keep us together?” Din nods, trying to distract himself from his racing heart by reaching for his pulse rifle and beginning to clean it with one of his rags. He can feel you following him, your curious eyes piercing his helmet as he cleans. “Why?”

Din fights hard to suppress the blush you won’t even see, adding an extra amount of pressure to his cleaning as he does so. “So I can keep an eye on you.”

You exhale softly. “Din, how many times do I have to tell you that I can handle myself? And even if I was with Cara, she’s obviously a hell of a fighter. I just want _you_ to be comfortable.”

Din finally halts his cleaning, his head turning towards you before he can stop it. “I’d only be comfortable with you here.”

Your gaze softens, but Din can tell you’re still not fully convinced. “But what about when you have to eat? Or sleep?”

“I’ll eat when you’re outside,” Din answers simply. “I can sleep with the helmet on.”

“But won’t that make it harder for you?”

Din is touched by your concern, but at the same time, he’s fearing you’ll give into it—and he can’t have that. He must have you under the same roof. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not in here. So, no, it won’t be harder.” In his shyness, he finally looks back to the rifle, taking up his cleaning again.

You evidently understand the message he’s been trying to get across to you, and you nod at him. “All right. I’ll stay, then.”

Din smiles a bit in victory under his helmet. “Great.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a long moment. You become the one to break it. “Well, I’m going to go see if they need help with anything out there. Do you want me to leave the child here, or take it with me?”

“You can do either.” He takes a breath, pausing before adding, “I trust you.”

Din can visually see how his statement impacts you. You try to suppress a large smile as you walk over to the crib and take the child out. “Let’s go explore, yeah?” you say to it, earning a loud coo in response. You giggle as you head out of the hut, Din’s stare following the both of you the entire way.

After being left in his lonesome again, Din’s thoughts become as loud as spoken words. He’s amazed by the bond you’ve formed in your two weeks spent on the run. The connections you both have from similarly traumatic backgrounds and present concerns has made him feel relatable to you in a way he hasn’t ever felt before. He’s still surprised by the fact someone as kind and pure as you would be willing to work with and support a person like him—a person who’s been used to dirty work ever since he earned his armor. You seem to see right past that, which is something no one else has ever been able to do before. You don’t see Mando: you see Din.

This is why he feels the strong urge to protect you, the same one he feels over the child. He knows you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself—the run-in with the Trandoshans was enough to prove that—but he still feels a strong need to keep you safe at all costs. The thought of you spending an indefinite amount of time under a different roof makes his heart sink. He’s relieved that you finally agreed to stay where he asked you to be, and he hopes you won’t be suspicious of the way he feels so attached to you already.

“Knock knock,” a voice sounds from the entrance to the hut. Din looks up from his work, spotting Cara standing there. “Can I come in?”

Din nods in response, putting the cleaned pulse rifle to the side as Cara heads towards him. She sits on one of the boxes near Din, looking at him curiously.

“So, she fights?” Cara asks out of the blue. Din knows exactly who she’s referring to.

“Yes,” Din answers.

“Is she good?” Cara presses.

“As hell. Took out two Trandoshan bounty hunters with limited assistance from me.”

Cara raised an eyebrow. “What’d she even do before this?”

“Survive. She’s got bounties on her, and she had to dodge those. She would save civilians from warzones and innocent bounty assets in her spare time.”

“Damn, that’s a lot for an ex-princess,” Cara reflects. “So, she’ll be good to help us.”

Din nods, ignoring the twinge of remorse he feels at those words. He doesn’t like the thought of putting you in potential danger.

“We should set out soon, you know—while there’s still daylight—to inspect the area.”

Din nods once again. “After you two get a meal.”

Cara furrows her brow at him. “And you.”

Din starts to shake his head. “No—.”

“You need something in you, too. Look, I’ll ask someone to bring you a plate, and then no one will come in until you’re ready.”

Din hesitates, but after pondering her words for a moment, he realizes she’s right. “Okay.” Cara smiles slightly in victory, standing up and heading towards the entrance to the hut. Din can’t help calling out one last thing to her before she goes. “Make sure she eats something. Please.”

Cara stops, giving Din a nod before exiting the hut. Din lets out a sigh, falling onto the same place Cara had just been sitting. His mind is wrought with thoughts of what could happen to you while assisting him and Cara with the attackers, and none of them are pleasant. Though he’s still curious to see all you can do in combat, he’s paranoid at you getting hurt. After all you told him you’d been through, he would hate to see you experience more pain—especially if he was the cause of it.

Omera soon brings in a plate for Din, and he thanks her before accepting it. He makes sure the coast is clear before he reaches for his helmet, hearing it hiss slightly as he takes it off and sets it beside him. His eyes close for a moment as he breathes in the fresh air. As he begins to eat, his eyes view his surroundings without the filter covering them. He absorbs the intimacy of the moment, knowing he’ll have to return to his helmet as soon as his meal is done. Thanks to his eagerness to survey the situation, Din finishes eating quickly, and he finds himself putting his helmet back on once again. He rises from his box and swings the pulse rifle over his shoulder, walking out of the hut to find you and Cara.

After you leave the child under Omera’s supervision and properly equip yourself, the three of you are soon heading towards the woods, in the direction the villagers advised you to go. On the walk there, Din manages to steal a few glances at you that he knows you can’t notice, trying to read your expression. All he finds is curiosity, which relieves him for the time being.

As you push through brush and sweep through undergrowth, the three of you don’t notice anything outlandish. “Are they sure the attacks come from this direction?” Cara wonders aloud.

“They must,” you say, capturing both Din and Cara’s attention as you gesture to a series of scorched foliage.

“We must be close,” Din comments, continuing in the direction of your discovery. He scans the ground for any unusual signs of life, leading the way as you and Cara trail closely behind. Suddenly, something pops up just behind a collection of undergrowth, and Din freezes at the sight of it. You and Cara nearly bump into him because of his abrupt stop, but you catch yourselves just in time—and see exactly what he does.

“There’s no way…” you trail off.

“Holy shit,” Cara breathes. “An AT-ST?”

Din bends down, brushing his hand over the imprint in the dirt. “Must be.”

“They didn’t mention an AT-ST,” you comment with a grimace.

“Because then we would’ve said no,” Cara states. “But we can’t fight an AT-ST.”

Din narrows his eyes at the footprint, instantly turning around and heading back towards the village. Cara follows him without complaint, but you’re unsatisfied, and Din can tell.

“So, that’s it?” you exclaim, running a bit to catch up to where they’ve stalked off. “We’re just giving up?”

Cara raises an eyebrow at you. “We can’t fight an AT-ST,” she reminds you. “Those things took out entire legions of soldiers. There’s only three of us, at the best.”

“There’s not just three of us,” you continue, thinking through all your options. “There’s an entire village of people, willing to make something happen!”

“They’re not fighters,” Cara insists. “They’re farmers. There’s no way.”

“But they’re just innocent people,” you say, your voice evidently full of desperation at this point. “They need our help! There has to be a way.”

“We can teach them.” Din finally decides to speak up on the matter. He gains both yours and Cara’s attention, and he notices this without having to look back at the two of you. “If they’re willing to face this thing, then we need to give them the chance to.”

Cara sighs. “You’re right. We’ll think of something.”

You smile in victory, feeling relieved. The village soon comes into sight, and the villagers all gather at the sight of you. They’re eager for your report—and Din hopes they won’t feel dejected at the news they receive.

Din and you stand back as Cara announces your findings to the villagers. “Turns out this is a bigger problem than we thought,” she says. “Whoever this is, they’re using an AT-ST—an Imperial walker. These are things that have been able to take out legions of soldiers in minutes.”

The villagers stir with statements of shared confusion and concern. Din shifts slightly, looking over at you. Your face is full of hope—hope that they’ll be as brave as they need to be in order to fight it. He can’t help admiring your concern for them.

“If you’re willing to help us fight it, we’ll train you,” Cara continues. “This is the only way we’ll be able to take it out. You’ll have to learn a lot fast, before they have a chance to attack again. It won’t be easy.” She pauses, turning around to look at the two of you. “But it’s possible.”

“We’ll do it,” Omera speaks for the townspeople, her hands resting firmly on her daughter’s shoulders. “Even if it’s the only shot we’ve got.”

Din looks at you again, seeing the tension fall from your shoulders. He only wishes his could do the same. He’s still unsettled by the thought of you heading into battle, but that’s something he’ll have to get over. They’ll need you— _he’ll_ need you—if they want a chance at winning. And he’ll just have to make sure he can protect you along the way.


	6. Confliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din, Cara, and the princess start to train the villagers for a fight, all while the princess works through her growing feelings for her companion.

The crackling of the fire you’re sitting around is no proper distraction to your thoughts. You can’t stop creating plans and thinking of tactics for the battle that lies ahead. The image of the AT-ST imprint haunts your mind, and even worse images of the possibilities of the damage it can wreak upon the village torment you. You won’t be able to fully rest until you help these innocent people from the threat that hangs over their heads—even if that means risking yourself.

“Hey,” Din’s modulated voice suddenly says from beside you. Your head turns to face him, and you see him looking at you with his head slightly tilted. The light of the flickering fire reflects off his beskar warmly. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you assure him in the best lie you can manage, even offering a smile along with it. “Just tired.”

Although you turn your head back to the fire, you can still feel Din’s eyes on you. Cara, who’s on the other side of you, also stares at you with sympathetic eyes. “Why don’t you go get some rest?” she suggests. “We can start planning tomorrow.”

“But—.” you try to say.

“ _Please_ ,” Din insists that time, capturing your attention once again. “I know you’re worried for them, but they’re safe—for now. We’ve had a long day of traveling and settling in. You need to rest.”

You sigh, looking between the two experienced warriors. “Well, you both need rest, too,” you remind them. You stand up from the log you’d been seated on, pausing to speak one more time. “Don’t be too far behind me.”

They both give you a nod, and that’s enough to satisfy you. Din’s and your hut isn’t far from the fire—you both wanted to keep it close so you could tend to the child if necessary—and you’re inside after just a few steps. You hover over the child’s crib, satisfied to see it sleeping peacefully. A faint smile spreads across your lips as you ever so gently run your hand over its ear. You then walk over to your cot, plopping down onto it with a deep exhale. For a moment, you continue to sit there, your arms wrapping around your knees as you stare off into the darkness.

Your mind won’t stop moving. This always happens in these situations: you remember all the times when you, too, were alone and in need of rescue—but had trouble receiving it. Never knowing if you’d make it to the next day alive, since something bad could happen at any moment. Always living from sunrise to sunset, unsure if you’d see the next day’s dawning. The saddest part is you never got the same help you’re now providing to the villagers. You had to become your own help.

It all started with the devastation of Alderaan. The moment your parents died, you’d been launched headlong into a life of chaos—never knowing who to trust. It haunts you all the time, but especially when you know of someone or some people that are about to go through the same thing. You can’t bear to see it happen to them.

This is why you feel so protective of and connected to Din. He had the same experiences as you growing up. He understands what you’ve been through, because he’s felt the same amount of pain, loss, and fear as well. You know this is why he’s so protective of you in return. There’s an unspoken treaty between the two of you now to prevent that kind of suffering from happening to you both again. Since you both had to grow up being your own protectors, you now feel the need to help protect each other—while also making sure the child gets the protection you both never received.

You would continue sitting there and losing yourself in your thoughts had your eyelids not started drooping lower and lower. Din still hasn’t come inside yet, but you don’t think you’ll be able to wait for him in your sudden exhaustion. You go through the motions as you put yourself to bed, nestling yourself under the blanket as if it’ll guard you from your deep thoughts. Within a few moments, you manage to leave them behind and fall into a deep sleep—or so, you thought.

 _You won’t stop running—you_ can’t _stop. It’s inevitable death if you do, whether they bring you in or kill you on the spot. Thankfully, your young legs can carry you at a fast pace for a long time, and you hope you can outrun them._

_Your head ducks under branches and leaps over rocks, trying to weave your way through the forest as quickly as possible. In the distance, you spot a low hanging yet sturdy branch—at the perfect height for you to cling and jump onto. Then, you can easily ascend the tree, hopefully hiding from those who are pursuing you._

_You’re closing the distance on it. You’ve only got a rock and a fallen tree trunk to jump over before you can grab it. Your legs easily clear the first obstacle, and then the second. Summoning all the energy you have left, you bend your legs and leap high, hands just seconds from grabbing the branch._

_And then you’re pushed away, forced to land on the ground with a hard_ thud _. The wind gets knocked out of you, and you look up to see the blurry image of one of the Rodians you’d been running from._

_“You’re a quick one for a princess,” the Rodian says, feigning impressment. “And clever, too.”_

_You try to spit out a nasty reply, but you still don’t have enough air, and your mouth can’t make the sounds._

_“And now the politician is silent,” the other Rodian says from behind you, laughing in a sickening way. “What do you say, Borran? Should we keep it that way?”_

_Borran smiles at his partner slyly, lifting his blaster from his holster and pointing it at you. “Yeah. I think we should.” You try to reach for yours, but find it missing. You realize there’s nothing you can do at this point. Your eyes watch carefully as Borran’s finger tenses on the trigger, and soon—it flexes fully._

You sit up with a gasp, breathing heavily at the realistic feeling of the dream. For a moment, you just remain there, closing your eyes as you take in the air you’d lost before. You’re safe here, no longer running from the hunters in the woods of another unknown planet you’ve landed on.

You hear a familiar, modulated voice call out your name gently. You open your eyes, turning your head to see Din kneeling beside you. He’s walked over from where his cot is on the other side of the hut, and his helmet is tilted in concern. You’re unfamiliar with the way he dons no other armor and is simply wearing what he usually does underneath it all. “Are you all right?”

You feel embarrassed now, and you tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear as your gaze falls to the blanket that still covers your legs. “I’m fine,” you try to assure him.

“Bad dream?” Din says the words as if they’re all too familiar—and relatable. You simply nod at him in response. He lets out a soft sigh. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

You want to smile at the effort Din’s making to comfort you, but the memory you’ve dreamt of is too fresh to allow that. These things have been bottled up inside you for so long, and you’re wondering that if you get them out, maybe they’ll finally escape you. “Sure.”

Din seems a bit surprised at your agreeance but doesn’t look regretful about making the offer. He changes his positioning beside your cot, so that he’s sitting in a more comfortable manner. He keeps one knee up and stretches the other leg out, leaning his arm on his knee as he continues to look at you intently. Your eyes drift to the blanket once again as you play with it anxiously.

“I’ve told you about my experiences when I was younger,” you begin, keeping your voice quiet to mind the sleeping child nearby. “Staying on the run, helping people when I could—never receiving it in return. Well… one time, I really almost didn’t make it.” You pause, swallowing hard at the memory before continuing. “Rodians, two of them, hunted me on a forest planet. I tried to run, and I almost made it, but when I reached for a branch to climb on, they stopped me. They had me pinned down, with no blaster.”

You force yourself to stop again, trying to get the burning image of Borran’s blaster out of your mind. Yet, it continues to sit there, still as a stone. In your silence and evident struggle, you feel a hand touch your shoulder, and you look up to see that it’s Din. His helmet is tilted even more, as if he’s trying to make his sympathy evident. The image—and his touch, which is still gloved—puts you more at ease, and you finally continue.

“They got me.” You tug at the collar of your shirt, showing a small scar of half a blaster wound on your left shoulder. “But they partially missed. At the same moment they shot, a group of Ewoks jumped out and attacked them, throwing their aim off target. At the distraction, I ran as far as I could—and tended to this whenever I finally felt safe again.”

Din’s hand, which had moved to the side when you revealed your scar, slowly starts to move back in that direction. You feel your stomach soar at the gentle touch, your gaze unable to leave his visor as he continues to move towards the scar. Eventually, his gloved fingers are able to brush over it, sending your skin practically on fire—not because of the pain, but because of his touch. Your cheeks heat up, and you’re thankful for the darkness of the hut that hides this from Din. “Don’t worry,” he assures you, his modulated voice quiet and soft. “No one will be able to hurt you like this again.”

Your heart rate continues to pick up at his words, and in your flustered state, your hand finally releases your collar, thus hiding the scar from Din again. His hand falls from your shoulder at that. “Thank you,” you say, trying not to make your struggle to speak so obvious.

Silence ensues between the two of you, but just when you’re certain Din’s going to walk away with no other words, he continues to speak in his gentle tone. “Whenever I get new armor forged, the same thing happens to me,” he confesses. His voice is strained, and you feel your heart tug at the sound of it. “I feel myself going back to that day… hearing the shots, the explosions, the screams of terror.” Din pauses, recollecting himself as he quietly clears his throat. “The sounds of the forging, it brings me back there.”

You try to provide him with the same sympathy and comfort he’d given you, resting your hand on top of his propped-up knee. “Then why don’t you leave while it’s being forged?”

Din takes a moment to form his answer—and absorb the feeling of your touch. “Because my parents weren’t afraid to keep running to get me to safety. If they could do that, then I can sit through a forging of beskar.”

You raise your brow in admiration of his wise thinking. “I wish I could be that courageous.”

Din tilts his head at you once again. “You _are_. Were you not the one to insist upon doing something to help these villagers, no matter what Cara and I said?” You find your face heating up again at his words. “That’s courage. You’re taking your suffering and using it to help others.”

You shrug. “I can’t let what happened to me happen to others.”

“That’s very admirable.” Din’s modulated voice has never sounded so soft to you before.

You thank him quietly, bringing on another silence that seems to pierce the air around you. You’ve since brought your hand back to your lap, and your eyes go back to watching your fingers play with the blanket that covers you.

“You should get more rest. There’s another long day ahead of us.” Din moves to stand up, but you find yourself ignoring your self-control as you stop him by grabbing his arm. His helmet looks back at you immediately, and you drop your hand from his arm in embarrassment.

“Please…” You trail off, attempting to piece the words together properly in your mind. “Can you stay right here tonight? I just need a sense of security.”

Din nods without hesitation. “Let me bring my cot over here.” You nod at him, allowing him to walk back over to where he’d been sleeping. You watch as he bends down and drags the cot over to your side, keeping the volume minimal for the sleeping child. Once Din gets back into the makeshift bed, you find yourself able to do the same thing. You close your eyes, feeling much more at peace than before.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whisper softly, expecting him to remain silent.

After a few moments, you earn a reply. “Goodnight.” His modulated voice contains warmth, which becomes just the key you need to fall into a peaceful sleep.

For the next two weeks, you follow a strict schedule. The morning is spent overseeing the fortifications the villagers are adding to the perimeter of their farm, helping them chop the wood and set up the heavy posts. The afternoons are for training, which the three of you have broken into three parts: Din handles the shooting, Cara takes the wooden spears and batons, and you take the fist-fighting and other self-defense basics. The evenings are occupied by digging the trench into which the AT-ST will fall, only up until the night falls. Then, you finally have time to breathe again, watching the child play with its new friends as you sit by the fire with Din and Cara.

If there wasn’t such a sense of doom in the upcoming future, it wouldn’t be a bad situation at all. Din’s kept his cot next to you at night, making sure he’s there in case your dreams torture you again. If anything, you’ve only gotten closer from the extended time spent together. During your training sessions, you often catch his visor looking your way, especially as you finish demonstrating some kind of skill. Upon you noticing, he’ll look away, refocusing into what he’s teaching. You don’t mind these fleeting moments—in fact, you crave them. But you know it’s foolish to think such things during a serious time. The villagers are the people who need your attention the most.

When sitting around the fire at night, Cara would share some of her stories from the days of the Rebellion. You listen with interest, always considering a part of yourself involved in the Rebellion effort that destroyed the weapon which killed your parents. Din would often watch you look at Cara with such admiration, though he likely thought you didn’t notice it. You’re well aware that he always seems to have an eye on you, and you don’t mind at all, because you always try to do the same for him.

The night before the planned attack, you find yourself unable to sleep. You remain out by the pond, sitting by the edge of it and soaking in the peaceful sounds of the night. The remnants of the fire from earlier sit beside you, the ashes still smitten and glowing. Everything on the outside seems so still, yet on the inside, you feel nothing but a storm. You can’t help feeling as if something’s going to go very wrong during this battle—and after everything’s been going so well, you’re not sure you’ll be able to handle such hurt. You don’t want things to change; you like hearing Cara’s stories, watching the child play with its friends, and being so close to Din all the time. You’ve had so much change in your life, and for once, you just can’t handle the thought of any more happening.

The sound of approaching footsteps draws you from these thoughts, and you look up to see none other than the man cladded in beskar sitting beside you. The metal reflects the nearby moon’s light, making his figure look ethereal as he looks out to the nature you’d just been observing.

“Can’t sleep?” his modulated voice prompts you.

You turn your head back to where it was before, following Din’s gaze out into the nighttime. “Nope.”

Din waits a moment before asking further. “Worried for tomorrow?”

You shrug. “I’m not really worried about the attack.” You pause, wondering if you should continue. You think of all the ways in which you and Din have grown together since you joined his team almost a month ago, and you decide it’s only fair to keep going. “I’m worried about the change.”

At your words, Din looks over at you, his helmet tilted in curiosity. “Change? How so?”

You gesture to the area around you—the pond beside which the child plays, the ashes of the fire from earlier that night. “I don’t want to lose this,” you say. Din seems to get the message. Still, you additionally draw attention to your connection as you move your hand in the space between you. “Or this.” You sigh, wrapping your hand back around your knee again. “I hate change. I’ve had too much of it. The only thing that hasn’t changed in my life is… well, me.”

Din continues to look at you closely, as if he’s scanning you for something. “I’d say you’ve changed as a person over the past few years.”

You chuckle lamely at his words. “Well, yeah, definitely like that. What I mean is physically.” You pause for a moment, feeling your throat tighten up as your next words enter your mind. “This… it’s all I have left of my parents. People always told me I looked like a carbon copy of my mother.” You take another moment to recoup before adding on. “They said my courage and leadership came from my father. These are the only things that haven’t changed in my life—and I don’t want them to. I’m sick of it.” You finally fall back into silence, looking at the reflection of the moon and stars in the calm waters of the pond.

Din also stays silent for a moment, evidently thinking through his next words very carefully. “Well, then, your father must’ve been one of the most courageous people of his age, and an outstanding leader.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words as you look over at him in response. The gaze of his visor still hasn’t left you, and the tilt of his helmet has softened even more. “And your mother…” Din pauses, beginning to reach a hand out, “…she must’ve been very beautiful.” His outstretched hand tucks a small piece of hair behind your ear, and you practically feel your heart fly through your chest. Your cheeks have to be a deep scarlet at this point, and a small smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. His fingertips brush your cheek as he brings his hand away.

“Thank you,” you respond in a quiet yet honest tone, breaking the gaze for just a moment. When you regain your composure, you look back into his visor. “I’m really happy that I can be your companion, Din.”

Though you can’t see it, you can picture Din smiling underneath his helmet, and you see it tilt in a different way than before. “Me too. More than you can know.” He takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment before his visor looks at you once again. “And don’t worry. I’m going to make sure nothing happens tomorrow to change our lives here—except for the fighting. I don’t want that change, either.”

You nod at him graciously, feeling more than thankful for his constant reassurance and protection. You hope that he understands you’re going to do all the same for him. Yet, before you can say it, he stands up, offering a hand to you.

“We should go try to get some rest. The people are relying on us.”

You agree, accepting his hand as he helps you up from the ground. The brief touch is enough to send your heart into another temporary frenzy, one that lasts into the night—making you temporarily able to forget about the events of tomorrow.


	7. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time comes for the planned attack, and Din and the princess fight through their worries of losing each other in the process.

You heave out a breath as you stand on the deck just outside the hut, looking out at the small village around you. The fortifications are set, the farmers are ready, and the children are being escorted to safety. The sun’s setting, cuing your departure to the attackers’ camp. You try to cling onto Din’s reassurance of not letting any change come your way, but you can’t help doubting his words at the sight. The only fire you’ll be sitting around is—hopefully—a burning AT-ST.

A hand touches your shoulder gently, yet you still jump a bit in surprise. You turn and see Din standing there, having just emerged from the hut. You smile sheepishly, embarrassed by your startled reaction.

“You ready for this?” Din asks you, his voice full of both determination and concern.

“Yeah,” you answer, changing your expression to match your words. “Let’s take that hunk of junk out.”

You go to step forward, but Din stops you, placing his arm across your chest. You look over at him with a raised brow, and he takes his arm away slowly before facing you seriously. Din starts with your name, his modulated voice low and honest as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking.”

He pauses, and you don’t like the way his demeanor has suddenly changed. “About what?”

Din’s helmet tilts a bit as he looks down at you. _I just wish I could see his eyes_ , you think to yourself. _I need to read them._ “The plan.” Once again, he stops, waiting to see your reaction. He continues when your look doesn’t change. “I want you to stay here while Cara and I provoke the AT-ST.”

Your eyes practically double in size at his words. “Din, are you serious?” The words fall out in a chuckle. “Only the two of you are going to go into that camp? I can’t let that happen.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Din assures you. “Two people are plenty. These are raiders, not soldiers.”

“With an _AT-ST_ ,” you remind him. You swallow hard, breaking your gaze with his visor. “Do you…not trust me—?”

“ _No_.” Din’s response comes out firm and almost angry. Your head snaps back to him at the sound of it. He’s straightened his head again to show his honesty. “I trust you more than anyone else.” He sighs, taking a small step closer to you. “It’s the people. They need a leader here, and you—you’re the only one who’s capable. I’ve watched the way you’ve led these people over the past few weeks, and it’s nothing short of how you described your father last night.” Your cheeks heat up at his complimentary words. “You, Cara, and I can all fight. But only you can lead.”

You nod, understanding his words. “Thank you.” You look past Din for a moment, allowing your gaze to study the farmers who are anxiously crowded together and nervously fidgeting with their guns and sticks. You then look back at him. “I’ll lead these people as best as I can.” Din gives you a nod, but you continue before he can say anything. “Even though I don’t like the thought of separating from you during all this.”

Din’s grimace is almost audible through his helmet. “Me neither. Trust me.” His modulated voice is gruff. “But at least I’ll know that you’re safe here while I’m gone.”

“But I won’t.”

Din lifts his hand to your shoulder once again. “I’ll be fine. Promise. Don’t think about me.” He turns around, pointing at the group of farmers. “Think about them.”

You give him another nod. “I will.” You put a hand over the one that’s still resting on your shoulder. “Just… please, be careful. I’d hate to lose a companion I _just_ made.”

Din uses his free hand to take your hand between his, holding it between the both of you. “You won’t.” His modulated voice is so soft that you barely hear it, causing your lips to curl up in a small smile. He then drops your hand and turns away, stepping off the deck and heading towards the group of anxious farmers. You follow him, taking a deep breath to suppress your worries and fulfill your duties as a leader.

“Ready to go?” Cara asks Din as you both walk up to her. She’s standing not too far from the collection of farmers. At her words, you realize she must already be aware of Din’s change in plans.

“Yes,” Din answers, adding a nod before he turns to the suddenly attentive group of people. “Cara and I are about to set off. When we come back, we’re coming in hot.” He then looks towards you. “She’s going to stay here with you. Whatever she says, you do it, no questions asked. That’s how you’re going to win this.”

The farmers all nod to agree. “We’re going to free you from this torment,” you assure them, raising your voice so they can all hear. “But it won’t just be us. You’ll have a part in it, too. In this moment, you are no longer farmers: you are soldiers. If you truly believe that you’re capable, then you _will_ be. You just have to be strong, be courageous, and rise to the challenge. The harder you fight now, the greater a feeling it’ll be when you’re finally free. Don’t be afraid to end your suffering.”

The farmers let out several cheers in response. You smile at the enthusiasm, looking over to see Cara’s impressed gaze and Din’s gaze—which, even through his helmet, you can tell is admiring you.

“We need to get going,” Cara urges, jerking her head towards the woods.

Din nods, not looking away from you. “We’ll be back soon,” he assures you.

Your smile falters slightly at the thought of him leaving. You think of something to say, but your words fail you, and you can only manage to get one thing out. “Please,” you whisper, unsure if Din’s even heard you.

He reaches out to grab one of your hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he hurries off with Cara towards the woods. You watch them all the way until the woods engulf them, trying to keep yourself calm for the sake of the people who’re watching you so intently.

You turn to them and clear your throat, lifting your chin a bit. “Let’s go over the plan again. Then, we’ll head to our positions. We have no time to waste.”

Meanwhile, the entire way to the camp, Din hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He knows the child will be safe with you if anything should happen to him, but you—just judging by the pure longing on your face—would break if he didn’t make it back. That’s the only motivation he needs to watch out for Cara and himself.

“So, not to distract you or anything, but I saw that goodbye gesture of yours,” Cara says, looking over at Din as they continue to head towards the encampment.

Din doesn’t reply initially, simply focusing on clearing a barrier in his path before he responds. “She needed comfort.”

Cara’s smile is practically audible as they continue on. “How long have you two been working together, now?”

“A month.”

Cara clicks her tongue. “Ah. Plenty of time for those feelings to develop, huh?”

Din simply looks over at her as a warning, one that says _Now isn’t the time_. She seems to understand, and silence remains between the two of them for the rest of the way to the encampment. By now, the sky’s completely darkened, leaving only the stars above and nearby fire as light. Din and Cara exchange a look, nodding as they agree that it’s time to launch the attack.

After silently taking out the guards and heading into the hut, Din places the explosive in its designated spot and waits with Cara until they’re met with more company. Once it comes, they don’t shy back from the fight. The first wave barely has time to meet Din and Cara before they’re sprawled out on the ground, knocked out first by Cara’s fists and finished by Din’s arms.

No later does another wave arrive, this time presenting a bigger challenge than the first. Din sees Cara get knocked to the ground, but before he can help her, he’s stuck in a fight of his own. A raider grabs him by the shoulders and forces him against one of the posts supporting the hut, throwing a hard fist into his helmet. Din grunts, but chuckles within, knowing the punch likely hurt his attacker more than it’d hurt him. Before he can do much else, however, he’s forced to the ground, landing hard against the rim of a large tub. He kicks the shin of his attacker hard, getting him to fall over and finishing him off with a hard elbow to the head.

Din stands up and takes care of two other nearby raiders quickly, barely getting time to take a breath before more flood in with blaster shots. He curses under his breath as he and Cara flee for cover, pulling out their blasters for reinforcement. Din looks at the nearby wall of the hut and gets an idea, gesturing towards it for Cara to see. She nods, and he shoots a few shots at it.

“I’ll cover you!” Din exclaims over the blaster shots, encouraging Cara to run through first. Once she makes it, Din does the same, trying to separate himself from the explosive hut as soon as possible. When the blast fires, it forces both him and Cara to the ground, and they lay there for a few seconds to recover from the wind that’s been knocked out of them.

“I hope that worked,” Cara states when she gets her voice back. The two only have time to start standing up when a loud groaning and movement of metal sounds from beside them. They look over to see two, red eyes looming over them, rising higher and higher into the trees.

_Oh, shit._

“Go! _Go!_ ” Din yells, beginning to take off back towards the farm. They try to run in unpredictable paths to throw off the shots of the quickly approaching AT-ST, which works well—almost the whole time. One shot fired towards Din nicks a part of the beskar on his shoulder, but also partially catches his clothed skin, singeing the material and burning him. He exclaims a curse at the sensation. Yet, thankfully, his adrenaline allows him to continue running without even thinking about the fiery feeling on his skin.

Back at the village, you can hear the upcoming commotion. Your heart leaps in your throat, and you already find yourself trying to spot Din and Cara. For a quick moment, you turn your head from that direction, facing the farmers who are all waiting anxiously in the places you’ve told them to go. “Here it comes!” you announce, keeping your voice strong and steady. “Hold your positions and listen to whatever they have to say once they come back!”

You look back to the woods and feel relieved to see Din and Cara running full speed towards the fortifications. The wait for them had been gruesome for you, full of nothing but anxiety at the thought of never getting to see their faces again. They don’t look injured, which comforts you further as they soon join you behind one of the fortifications.

“How’d it go?” you ask, looking at the panting fighters with curiosity.

“Good, so far,” Cara answers, her eyes never leaving the shaking trees. “We’re alive, aren’t we?”

You let out a curt chuckle, brushing off any concern at Din’s odd silence as you watch the AT-ST approach in the distance. Your blaster’s tight in your hand, waiting to target any raider who may approach. The AT-ST’s almost in the trench, but just as it’s about to reach it, it stops.

“Why is it stopping?” Cara mutters in frustration. Then, a bright light switches on its exterior, looking in your direction.

“Get down!” Din exclaims to you both, looking to the rest of the farmers afterwards. “Get _down!_ ”

Everyone heeds his words, ducking down below the shielding of the fortifications. Two farmers, however, are frozen in fear, and the bright light of the AT-ST catches them easily. No later does it start to fire shots, igniting a hut just behind the two farmers. Raiders begin to run out from the trees—and you know the time has come.

“This is it!” you call out, looking upon the farmers with confidence. “It’s now or never! _Open fire!_ ”

The farmers with guns begin to shoot at the approaching raiders, while the ones with sticks wait for their cue. The blasts of the AT-ST are still too threatening for them to join in with the attack.

“We have to get that thing to stop,” you say to Cara and Din, who are taking out the attackers as best as they can.

“I have an idea,” Cara says, looking over at Din. “Give me the pulse rifle.”

Din doesn’t hesitate, allowing her to take the weapon from his hands. “I’ll cover you,” he assures her, pulling out his blaster and giving her room to run forward.

You stress for her going so close to the walker, but don’t question her plan of action. Instead, you continue to shoot, trying to keep the raiders as far from the village as possible.

Cara successfully draws the fire of the AT-ST, freeing the other farmers who are waiting to launch their attack. They look afraid, and so you do what you think a good leader would do: lead them. You stand up from your spot and call out to them. “Here we go!” you yell, beginning to run around the fortifications. You ignore Din’s protests at your advancement—especially without a stick of your own—and throw yourself headlong into any fist fights you can find.

You engage with a raider double your size, easily getting a good hit at their face and kick to their stomach. They fall to the ground, and before they can get up, you shoot them dead with your blaster. As you do that, one comes up behind you, hooking their elbow around your neck. You bend your knees to fall out of the chokehold, swinging your leg around to trip them. They fall at once, and you shoot them dead before they can stand again.

You look around, seeing one of the women nearby struggling to fight a raider with her stick. You run over and hit the raider on the head with the side of your blaster, causing them to stumble to the side. They manage to get a hit into your jaw, but you recover quickly, getting two throws into their face and neck. This gives the woman time to run the stick through the raider’s stomach, causing him to fall to the ground in a heap. She looks at you with gratitude, and you simply nod as you look in Cara’s direction.

She’s just shot the AT-ST in one of its eyes, causing it to finally step forward and fall over. You turn back around and begin calling all of the farmers back to their previous positions, beckoning them away from whatever could come as a result. You help the ones who are wrapping up their fights, lingering in the same place as you watch the farmers retreat to their safer spots.

Yet, you completely forget about your own safety.

All you hear is Din’s voice yelling your name and a command to “ _Move!_ ” before the force of an explosion sends you several feet ahead of where you’re standing. You hit the ground with a hard _thud_ , feeling all the wind get knocked out of you. The stars above you spin for a second as you blink a few times, the ringing in your ears going away more and more as time passes. You can hear the retreat of the raiders and the cheers of the farmers, which causes a dull smile to come to your lips.

“Hey, _hey_ ,” a soft, modulated voice sounds from above you. Your eyes soon can make out the outline of Din’s helmet, and his arms rest gently around you as he props the upper half of your body up from the ground. “You all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you assure him. Din helps you to stand up, catching you when you stumble a step forward. “I’m _fine_ ,” you remind him with a soft chuckle. You take the time to look around quickly, seeing the burning AT-ST and the absence of all hostility. A smile grows on your lips as you turn back to Din. “We did it!” you cheer, and you can’t help yourself from throwing your arms around him in an excited embrace. Din’s shocked at first, but you feel him hug you back after a few moments. When you pull away, you rest your hands on his shoulders—causing him to cry out in protest. Immediately, you remove your hands. “Din? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Din insists through gritted teeth. You wrinkle your brow as you watch one of his hands approach his shoulder. “I’m just sore from the action, that’s all.”

You frown. “Din, please,” you beg. “Whatever it is, let me help. I know how to treat wounds.”

Din remains silent for a moment, but finally gives in with a nod. You lead him away from the clearing battlefield, informing Cara of the situation before heading to your shared hut. You encourage Din to sit comfortably on his cot as you grab your med pack, bringing it over to him and sitting down.

“It’s this shoulder?” you ask him, pointing to his left shoulder. Din nods, watching your every move closely as you observe it. You can see part of the singed and bleeding skin near his armor, and your heart sinks. “You got shot?”

“Partially,” Din answers. “During the run.”

Your eyes snap over to his visor upon hearing that. “By the _AT-ST?_ ”

“It’s fine,” Din assures you. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

You sigh, looking back over at the wound. You realize that in order to treat it, you’ll need to remove his pauldron. “Can I take this off?” you ask him.

“Yes,” Din remarks, watching as your fingers gingerly meet the sides of the pauldron. You lift it slowly but steadily, hating the sound of Din’s wince that he evidently tried to hide from you as you pull it off. Once you get it, you place it delicately onto the cot beside you, reaching for a bacta strip and securing it on the singed skin of his shoulder.

“This’ll numb the pain and get it healing,” you inform Din, still looking at your work. You’re well aware of his eyes on you. “Are you all right with me wrapping up your shoulder, so you can sleep without knocking it off?”

“Yes,” Din says again, his modulated voice quieter than usual. You carefully take a wrap and begin to wind it around his shoulder a few times, being as delicate yet secure as you possibly can. When you’ve finished, you secure it and put everything back into the kit.

“Does that feel any better?” you ask, looking back at him once you’ve cleaned up.

“Much better,” Din assures you. “Thank you…” He trails off as he observes you further. You wrinkle your brow in slight confusion. “Is that a bruise?” His words are tense, and you still feel confused until he brings a hand up to brush over the spot on your jaw where you’d been hit before.

“Don’t worry about that,” you say, your face heating up at the intimate touch. “It was just one hit.”

Din shakes his head. “That’s one hit too many.” There’s almost a hint of guilt in his voice, as if the bruise is somehow his fault.

“It’ll probably be mostly faded by morning.” At your words, Din sighs lightly, allowing his fingers to brush over your face as he pulls his hand away. You continue to stare at each other for a moment, basking in the feeling of each others’ presences. Your anxieties finally begin to float away as you realize you’re both safe. “I’m glad it went so well.”

“Me too,” Din agrees. “I told you… no changes around here.”

You laugh a bit, nodding to accept your defeat. “You were right.” You pause, looking down as your next words come out rather sadly. “No changes.”

You come to terms with the thought of your secret hopes of getting closer to Din. You know that the increased time spent together and the amount of sharing you’ve done with each other have made you feel closer to him than you’d been to anyone in a very long time—possibly even since your parents. Deep down, this hope to push the boundaries on your companionship has started to grow—and you feel slightly ridiculous for even allowing it to begin. After all, it’s only been a month, and Din’s a Mandalorian. It’s not like he can do much in that respect.

Before Din can respond, Cara comes in with the child, and its excited coos at the sight of its guardians makes you forget all deep thoughts. You and Din play around with the child until it falls asleep, allowing you to do the same. For the first time since you’d joined Din’s crew, your head hits the pillow with a strong sense of peace and belonging—one that you hope can last for longer than just a fleeting moment.


	8. The Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess want to stay and create a home on Sorgan, but end up having their dream ruined—quickly.

The next few weeks were some of the best you or Din had experienced in much too long. You’d stayed in the village with the farmers, enjoying the peace and comfort of not having to be on the run or in fear of a looming threat. You both could play with the child, sip on spotchka, spend nights by the fire, and do whatever else you wanted. You were both glad that Cara also stuck around, and you got to know her very well. It was like a dream.

You’d also become even closer to each other than you had before. At this point, it’s become quite obvious that you’re both starting to have real feelings for each other. Your gazes linger much longer than necessary, your cots are kept close together even though neither one of you are experiencing nightmares, and many nights are spent just talking about life—the past and the future. There’s an evident connection between the two of you, an unspoken but prominent bond, and it can be felt by anyone who’s around you—or, so, Cara claims.

If there’s one thing that Din could choose to never forget, it’d be one of those nights by the fire. Everyone else had already retired for the evening, including Cara, so it was just you and Din left. The stars were shining above so brilliantly, and Din watched the reflection of them in your eyes as you looked at them. You were having one of those conversations about life, and you’d almost made it a type of game, where you shared one thing you loved from your past and one thing you wanted for your future, after your run with the child was over—if it ever was.

“You’ve been quiet for a while,” Din had observed, tilting his head as he continued admiring your thoughtful gaze. You’d both already shared about your pasts for the night, and he was waiting on what you were to say about the future.

“I’m just thinking,” you had answered, a small smile stuck to your lips as you spoke. Your eyes never left the night sky. “I think I have one, but I’m not sure if it’s the future.”

Din felt curiosity flood through him, and so he urged you forward. “It’s all right.”

You released a deep breath. “This is something I’ve always wanted,” you had started, your voice gentle as the fire continued to crackle and almost drowned you out. “Ever since Arilia was destroyed.” You cleared your throat, your eyes finally looking back to Din. “I’ve always wanted a home.”

Din kept his head tilted at you. “A home?”

You nodded. “I wanted something I could finally call home again, with—you know—that sense of belonging.”

Din had nodded at you. “I understand completely.”

You’d looked at him with such compassion in that moment. “Have you always wanted one, too?”

He’d paused for a moment—but then he’d nodded. That description of home sounded nice to him. It sounded like the thing he’d been missing, and he never even knew it. “But why wouldn’t that fit into your future?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… I can’t help feeling that it…” You’d paused for a moment, still looking at Din. “…that it might just not be what I expected.”

Din tilted his head at you again, feeling his heart build up with sympathy and shared feelings. “Well, I hope you find it soon—and that when you do, it’s everything you wished it would be.”

You’d smiled at him so sweetly, never breaking your gaze at him. “You too, Din.”

Din thinks of this memory as he rests against the outside of the hut, looking out at the village as he stands there. Cara sits near him, her feet propped up as she sips on a fresh cup of spotchka. She looks over at Din, seeing him look particularly at the image of you playing with the child and the other children of the village. Though his face is hidden from her, Din knows she can sense exactly what he looks like under his helmet.

“So, when’re you going to take that thing off?” Cara suddenly asks, causing Din to look from the village to her.

“My helmet?” Din responds, his voice revealing his shock at her random question.

“Yeah,” Cara confirms. “Aren’t you going to finally show her what you look like, and settle down here with your new family?”

Din’s chest warms at the idea of a new family—especially with you—but the idea of completely giving up his Creed is something that’s very foreign to him. He contemplates her words, looking back to you again as he does so. You’re laughing as the child spits out a frog it’s captured in its mouth, and the other children laugh with you. The warmth in his chest grows.

“It’s pretty obvious, buddy,” Cara informs her friend. “You just met your soulmate, _and_ she’s already bonded with your kid.”

Din chews on her words for a moment, unable to deny the truth. “I know.” His modulated voice is strained with indecision as he speaks. He pauses before he continues. “But I’m still skeptical.”

Cara looks at Din with confusion. “About her? You have to be kidding.”

“No, not about her. Absolutely not.” Din sighs, looking back over at Cara. “About our safety here. I’m not fully convinced that they’re safe, even out here. I can’t risk leaving behind the Creed if danger’s still looming.”

Cara raises an eyebrow at Din. “Well, if nothing’s happened yet… you’re probably fine.”

“We raised some hell here, Cara. That’s a lot of action for a place like this. Once word gets out… they’re bound to be suspicious.”

Cara takes another sip of her spotchka, looking back to where Din had been before. “Maybe you should talk to her. See what she wants. She’s a very bright one.”

Din nods, looking back to you as well. “Yeah. She really is.” Din decides to take Cara’s advice, releasing another breath as he stands up from the wall. He steps off the porch and walks in your direction, feeling his heart beat just a bit faster at the thought of approaching you. The effect you have on him is stronger than he’s ever felt before—and, although it scares him, he can’t get enough of it.

“Excuse me?” Din says, interrupting your play session with the children. You look up at him right away, rising from where you’ve been sitting among the children. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course,” you agree softly, and he senses some concern in your tone as he leads you away from the children. He takes you somewhere secluded, making sure you can both have your privacy as he speaks honestly to you. He notes that you’re both standing closer to each other than necessary.

“It’s very nice here,” Din begins with an obvious observation.

“ _Very_ nice,” you agree with a small giggle.

“I can tell you both like it here. You seem very happy.”

You tilt your head as you look up at him. “What about you?”

Din feels a tug at his heart. He’s not used to being asked for his take on things. “Me?”

“Do you like it here? Are you happy?”

“Very much so.”

You smile, never breaking your gaze with him as you go on. “So, you want to stay?”

Din sighs, feeling even more conflicted at the sight of the excitement you have in your eyes at the possibility of staying. “I would love to. But I’m still not sure.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not fully convinced that it’s safe here. The news about the AT-ST will travel quickly.”

You nod, understanding his take. “I can see why you’re worried about that. But…” You trail off for a moment, brushing your hands down his armored forearms before holding both of his hands in your grasps. “…wouldn’t it be nice to just stay here, with the child, and live the lives we both wanted but never could have?”

Din’s so taken aback by the sudden wave of emotions your words bring on that he can’t even speak for a few moments. He simply stares down at you, wishing you could see every single thing he’s feeling—but knowing it’s impossible with his helmet and his Creed. When he finally swallows down as much of the emotion as he can, he answers in a broken voice. “It would.”

You continue to smile up at him, and you drop one of his hands just to bring it up to the side of his helmet. Your hand brushes against it as if it were really his face, and Din feels his heart swell at the gesture. He’s not used to this type of affection—and he didn’t even realize it’s what he’s been craving ever since his parents died. He realizes that you must feel the same exact way. “Then, let’s just stay. When trouble comes, it comes, and we rid of it. We deserve this rest, Din.”

 _Oh_ , the way you say his name. He hasn’t heard another voice say it since he was a child, and it sounds so right coming off your lips. Din places his free hand over the one on his helmet, securing it in place. He’s about to answer, but he’s cut off by the most horrible of noises—a blaster shot.

Instantly, you’re both alerted, and you pull your blasters as you jump apart from each other. “Go check on the kid,” Din commands you. “I’ll find the source.”

You nod, and you both spring into action. Din runs towards the woods, where the villagers said the shot had come from. When he breaks through some of the foliage, he sees Cara standing over a steaming, motionless body, and she looks up at him worriedly. Din kicks over the dead body and spots a tracking fob. He curses under his breath.

“Who’s it tracking?” Cara asks warily.

Din looks back towards the village. “The kid.”

Cara wrinkles her brow. “They know where it is, now.”

Din switches his gaze back down to the fob. “Yes.”

“So, they’ll keep coming.”

Anger rises in Din as he remembers the conversation he _just_ had with you, and the desire to stay and live as normal of a life as the two of you could manage—together. And it was all ruined in a matter of seconds. “Yes,” he practically growls, crushing the tracking fob underneath his boot. He begins to stalk back towards the village, Cara close at his heels. As soon as he returns, he plans on telling you the bad news—but bad news comes to him first.

“Is everything okay?” Omera questions him worriedly. “Was it her?”

Din freezes in place upon hearing that. “What do you mean?” he asks sharply. “Didn’t she come get the child?”

Omera shakes her head, looking behind her where Din can see Winta holding the child with an expression of concern. Din’s blood runs cold.

“Where is she?” Din demands, but everyone shrugs and looks around.

Immediately, he begins to panic, pulling his blaster out once again as he searches around the village. He first looks inside your hut but finds nothing there. Continuous curses fall from his lips as he hurries around, looking to your previous rendezvous spot next. He turns on his heat sensor and can see your footprints leading in the opposite direction he’d expected you to go—along with some new ones.

“ _Osik_ ,” Din mutters, trying to follow the footprints with urgency. _Shit._ “ _No!_ ”

His mind runs through the worst possibilities of what could’ve happened to you as he follows the footprints, noting that there’s been obvious struggle the whole way. He finally finds what he believes to be the stopping point, and he turns off the heating sensor to see the dead body of a Duro bounty hunter and—to his horror—you sprawled on the ground as well, your face contorted in pain as you lay there.

Din breathes your name, kneeling beside you and inspecting you for wounds. “What is it?”

“I’m… okay,” you manage to breathe out, although it doesn’t sound very convincing. “He just… got the back of my leg before I was ready.”

Din looks to the back of your left thigh, and his eyes widen as he sees a knife still sticking out of it. “ _Osi’kyr_ ,” he grumbles, taken completely aback by the severity. _Oh shit._ “All right, just try to relax, okay? I’ll carry you back to the hut and get some medical help.”

You simply nod, letting Din scoop you up into his arms as delicately as he can. He then hurries back to the village, where he immediately calls for help from anyone who knows how to treat this kind of wound. One of the village elders immediately comes to help, grabbing their medical supplies and heading into the hut with you. Cara enters the hut as well, feeling concerned for you—and for Din as well. He refuses to leave your side as you lay on the cot, receiving the treatment you need.

As the elder works, you grimace at the pain it brings, and Din offers his hand for you to squeeze. It’s killing him inside to see you in such a state, and to know that it was _he_ who left you vulnerable to a surprise attack from another bounty hunter. At times, you let out short gasps of pain, and Din coos words of reassurance and relaxation to you. His helmet looks up to Cara after many minutes of this, and his visor meets her gaze of sympathy.

The elder finishes their work with positive assurances of quick recovery, finishing off the cleansing of the wound with a bacta patch and a wrapping of gauze around your thigh. Din thanks them as they leave the hut, and he hangs his head for a moment in shame. His hand is still entwined with yours, and neither one of you plan on letting go anytime soon.

“I’ll let the villagers know she’s okay,” Cara says to Din in a soft voice. “And I’ll look after the kid.”

Din nods to thank her, his helmet still tilted downward. He hears Cara leave, and almost as soon as she’s gone, your voice comes next. “Din, it’s not your fault.” Your voice sounds much stronger than it had before—but it stays at a lower volume to keep him calm.

At your words, Din looks back up at you, seeing the desperation in your eyes for him to believe you. Still, he can’t. “I left you there.”

“To protect the child,” you remind him. “ _And_ the rest of the villagers. The child takes priority. That’s what we agreed upon—that’s why we’re here.”

Din exhales deeply, his heart still full of panic and grief. “And now we have to leave. I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Din. Please.” You sigh, attempting to sit up more. Din supports your back with his free hand. “We’re in this position because we’re doing the right thing. I’d rather have to run around the galaxy and know I’m doing the right thing than stay somewhere I like and know I’m doing the wrong thing.”

Din’s amazed at your wisdom, but he still isn’t convinced. “I could take this off.” He refers to his helmet with a mere nod. “All of it. And they’d never even know who I was. And we could stay here, just like you wanted to.”

“ _No_.” Your response is firm, almost taking Din aback. “I’ll never make you break your Creed for me. Ever.”

“But—.” Din tries to reason.

“It’s not happening, Din. I know how much your Creed means to you, and I’m not going to let you give that up just because I said I wanted to stay here. Wherever I am with you and the child is a home enough to me.”

Din’s speechless at your words. _A home_. He thinks of the memory he’d been pondering about before. “Home?”

He sees your cheeks redden slightly at your confession, but you don’t take anything back, and you bring your free hand to his helmet just like before. “Yes, Din. Home.” You brush your thumb over the cool, metal ridge of the helmet, making Din feel a warmth inside him like no other.

When he’s able to form words, Din finally speaks again. “When you spoke of a home by the fire that night, and you said it wasn’t going to be what you expected it to be… is this what you meant?”

You nod at him, smiling a bit as you continually run your thumb on his helmet. “That’s exactly what I meant. I’ve finally found that sense of belonging again, Din. And it just so happens to be when I’m with you.” You chuckle a bit, tilting your head as you look up at him. “Fate just happened to bring us together this way.”

Din looks down at you with the most emotion he’s ever felt since he was a child—and he just wishes you could see it. It takes him some time to piece his thoughts together. “I feel it, too.” His modulated voice is strained with the emotion he’s feeling, and he knows you can sense it.

Your gaze sparkles at his words, and you’re not sure what to say anymore. So, you act instead, leaning forward to nestle your face into his beskar-cladded chest. Din’s so surprised at first that he’s not sure what to do, but after a few moments of this new affection, he relaxes into it—and he secures his arms around you. At the feeling of him pulling you in closer, and let your head fully relax against his chest, your eyes closing as Din senses you absorbing the new home you’ve established.

You sit there in sweet silence for an undeterminable amount of time, but eventually, Din knows he has to break it. He does so softly. “If you’re feeling up to it tomorrow, we’ll leave first thing. I can’t risk more people coming after you two.” He looks down at you, his heart melting at the way you’ve nestled yourself so comfortably against him. “Does that sound all right…” He trails off, trying to find the right word to match his feelings. “… _cyar’ika?_ ”

At the new word, you look up at him, first giving him a nod to confirm his words. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Din can see the curiosity in your eyes, and he’s not surprised when your question comes out. “What does that mean?”

Din smiles underneath his helmet, wondering if you can sense it somehow. “That’s for another time.” He brushes a loose piece of hair behind your ear before urging you to fall back into his chest, where he continues to hold you in his secure grasp—one that he knows he can protect you in.

Although you’re both not sure of what the future can hold from here, at least you’re both now sure of something: you’re going to go through it all together.


	9. The Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the princess recovering, Din seeks to bring her comfort by bringing her to a familiar type of planet.

When you wake up the next morning, you look beside you to find that Din’s already risen for the day. You can tell he’s itching to get off Sorgan now that it’s more of a threat to you and the child than you’d previously thought. The thought of his concern makes you smile just a bit.

The fact that you’ve both finally acknowledged the way you feel about each other has made a weight lift off your shoulders. You’re better at adjusting than Din is—you can tell it’s been a long time since he’s had any meaningful moments or feelings of affection. You do manage to remember, though, in a hazy memory, that he’d let you drift off to sleep with your head resting against his chest last night. He’d taken off the beskar already by then and had encouraged you to try to get some sleep despite the various ways in which your head was spinning.

The thought of him and the child makes you rise, an action that you slightly regret when you feel a dull ache in the back of your thigh. You grit your teeth to try to hold back an exclamation of pain, but you’ve already been spotted.

“Hey, take it easy,” Din’s modulated voice sounds from behind you in a stressful tone. As soon as you turn your head to look at him, you feel his arms supporting you, taking much of your own weight. “Is it hurting badly today?”

“No,” you assure him, trying to take some of your weight back. “I just… kinda forgot it was there.”

“You _have_ to be careful,” Din reminds you.

You let out a soft chuckle at his fierce protectiveness. “I know, I know.” When silence falls, you take a moment to observe the hut around you. Everything’s been moved out aside from the cots you’ve both been sleeping on, and you grimace a bit at its emptiness. The place had become a makeshift home in the past few weeks, and you feel sad to be leaving it behind—but then your real home speaks again, shifting your attention away from your surroundings.

“Are you ready to leave?” Din’s voice is still softer than you’re used to hearing. “I’d like to go right away.”

You nod, swallowing hard as you let him assist you out of the hut. When you emerge, you’re met with the gathered crowd of villagers, their eyes watching the two of you sadly as you make your way over to the packed wagon. The child is standing on it already, looking at its friends with fallen ears. You feel your heart sting, as you know it only does that gesture whenever it’s sad.

Din walks you all the way to the wagon, helping you inside of it before turning back to the villagers. He gives a nod specifically to Omera, who’s taken care of you both. Cara then walks up to Din, her own belongings hiked up on her shoulder.

“I’d offer to accompany you, but I think your little family will be just fine,” she says warmly, smiling just a bit at her friend. Your face heats up at her use of the word family, and your heart warms up even more than that.

“Thank you,” Din says with a nod. “You can join us whenever.”

“Well, I’d better keep laying low for now. You know where to find me if you need me.”

Din nods once again, and the two shake hands in a friendly manner. Cara then walks over to where you’re sitting, giving you the same gesture. She then walks off, leaving Din to hop up with you onto the wagon. You all bid goodbye to the villagers one last time, feeling the wagon pull in a new direction and watching as the people begin to appear farther and farther away from you.

A sigh falls from your lips once they’re completely out of sight, and you close your eyes as you lean back against a pile of belongings. The dull ache of your leg has diminished in your current position, and you try to focus on something other than the pain you feel at having to go traveling aimlessly through the galaxy once again.

You only reopen your eyes when you feel a hesitant hand rest on your leg. You see Din sitting beside you, his gloved hand sitting there in a manner that’s asking for permission. Your smile ensures him that it’s all right, and he places it more firmly before speaking. “I know you’re upset.”

You scoff, your gaze drifting to the clear sky above. “Is it that obvious?” Before Din has a chance to respond, you keep going. “I just got my hopes up. I should’ve known that was too dangerous.”

Din remains silent for a long moment, and for a while you’re not sure if he’ll even say anything. Eventually, he speaks, his modulated voice sounding strained. “I would’ve done anything to keep you happy here. I just…” He trailed off, but you understand his reasoning.

“I know,” you say, finally looking back at him as you place one of your hands over his. “I can’t be selfish. The kid’s our priority.” At mentioning it, you look across from you to see the little green bundle of joy looking sadder than usual. You reach out to take it in your arms, satisfied when its ears perk up just a bit at your affection. One of your hands pats its head as the other arm keeps it secure against you.

“You’re both the priorities,” Din finally chimes in on your latest comment.

You look up at him, seeing his visor looking down at you intently. “Don’t leave yourself out of this, Din. Our lives have the same value, all right?”

Din simply releases a deep breath, leaning back against the side of the wagon and stretching his arms out as he does so. The gesture invites you to lean against him, and you let your head rest on the inside of his beskar cladded shoulder as you continue to look up at him.

“Do you understand that, Din?” you ask again.

Din looks down at you, and you visualize the small smile he’s likely showing underneath his helmet. “Sure.”

You smile up at him. “Good.” You then relax more into him, holding the now-sleeping child tight in your arms as you find yourself also drifting in and out of sleep in the secure and close presence of your companion.

The trip lasts the rest of the day, and by the time you reach the _Razor Crest_ , it’s nightfall. Din insists upon you taking the child up to the cockpit as he packs the ship back up, much to your protests. You limp a bit when you walk on your own, but the wound is still healing quite fast. You can tell Din is still bothered by it, so you try your best to act as normally about it as possible around him—even trying to suppress your limp.

Din soon joins the two of you in the cockpit, landing himself into the pilot’s chair as he takes off for another unknown destination. You hold the child on your lap, mindlessly stroking its ear as you look out at the changing surroundings. A part of your heart still hurts as the sight of Sorgan fades away, and you even find yourself blinking away a few threatening tears of longing as the trees and blue skies exchange for stars and darkness. You hope Din hasn’t noticed this, but the conversation he begins soon after proves otherwise.

“It’s sad to see it go,” Din confesses. “Maybe we can visit it again sometime.”

You smile just a bit at that. “That’d be nice.”

The _Crest_ soon jumps into hyperspace, and once the autopilot controls are on, Din spins around in his chair to face you. His helmet tilts to the side as he looks at you. “What was your home planet like?”

You’re surprised when you realize you’ve never described it to him. A strong wave of nostalgia floods over you as the words spill out. “Arilia was beautiful,” you begin, a hint of wonder poking through your words. “It was a snow planet—but not terribly cold and snowy, like Hoth. It would have gentle snowfalls, and it reflected the light so regally. Sometimes, it almost used to blind me.” You giggle at that, earning a small chuckle from Din. “As a child, I was always playing in the snow, or skating on the ice. My parents and I used to make snow families and have snowball fights. Those were the first fights I ever got experience in.” You let out a reminiscent sigh, your eyes falling to the child in your arms as you stroke its ear once again. “It was perfect.”

“That sounds… beautiful.” You look up at Din’s words, seeing him swivel back towards the controls. He’s silent for a few moments as his fingers mess with something on the dashboard, but he soon breaks it again. “My planet never had snow. We were… more of a desert planet.”

“I see. That’s a shame—snow is _so_ much fun.”

Din finishes up with the controls and turns back around. “I’m sure it is.” He then stands up, reaching out to take the child from your arms. “You need rest. We’ll have to rebandage your wound tomorrow.”

You nod at him, suddenly feeling the weight of your exhaustion as you also stand. Din remains there to see if you’ll need any assistance getting up, but at the sight of your stability, he finally descends the ladder and puts the child to bed. You get yourself into the cot Din had set up for you a month ago, realizing that you’re not going to get to sleep near him anymore. You try to fall asleep regardless of the fact that you’re now alone, but you find that you can’t. After a while of trying, the thought upsets you enough to quietly peek back out of the room and find Din, hoping to find some sort of way to recreate your arrangements from Sorgan.

You find him sitting on the floor of the _Crest_ , his back and helmet leaning against a wall as his legs stretch out in front of him. His blaster is resting in his hand, as if he’s readying himself to shoot an invisible enemy. The sight makes your heart ache. _Is this how he’s always slept on the ship? Does he not have a cot?_

“Din?” you whisper-yell, trying not to alert him or wake the child. His helmet immediately lifts up and looks in your direction. At your observation of him, Din puts his blaster back in its holster and rises quickly.

“Are you all right?” Din questions in a hushed tone, walking over to you.

“I’m… fine,” you say, not worrying about your current issue just yet. “My thought is, are you? Is this how you always sleep here, Din?”

Din’s helmet turns around to face where he was just sitting before looking back to you. “Yeah.”

Your brow creases in concern. “Why? Don’t you have a bed of your own? There’s no way you get enough sleep out there like that.”

Din shrugs. “I usually don’t sleep. I’m on the lookout.” You start to protest, but Din continues. “And that—,” he gestures with his helmet to the closed compartment in which the child sleeps, “—was my bed. But the child needs it more than I do.”

You shake your head. “No, Din, not anymore. Come in here with me. There’s no imminent threats in hyperspace, and this cot’s big enough for two people.”

Din hesitates, but he knows your stubbornness well enough at this point to realize that any argument would be inevitable. He follows you back inside the room, simply watching as you settle yourself onto one side of the cot. At the sight of his stoic stature, you sigh lightly.

“It’s all right. Look, I was going to ask you if you could stay in here, anyway. I’m… not used to being alone anymore.” The last sentence is rushed out, and you feel your cheeks heat up a bit as you say it.

You see some tension finally fall from Din as he begins to remove his pieces of armor. He leaves them in a neat pile on the floor before approaching the cot. He lays beside you gingerly, and instantly you feel more at ease—like everything is just the way it should be. You close your eyes, settling yourself in and hoping Din’s doing the same beside you.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whisper softly, not expecting a response.

“‘Night,” his modulated voice says, making you smile before you drift off into sleep.

After a long night of rest, you’re woken up by Din’s hand lightly touching your shoulder. Your eyes meet his visor, and he tilts his helmet at you. “Morning,” he greets, an edge of amusement present in his tone. “We’ve landed somewhere to stretch our legs for a bit.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Already?”

Din gives you a nod. “I think you’ll enjoy it.” He then turns around and leaves the room. You feel confusion and curiosity fill you as you get up, taking care of whatever you need to before you follow him.

The _Crest_ feels colder than usual, and you cross your arms as you stand near Din, who’s waiting by the hatch. The child stands by his leg, watching as Din hits the button and lets the hatch fall. You nearly gasp as you see the surroundings outside the ship.

It’s completely covered in snow. The flakes fall in a gentle flurry, coating the plethora of surrounding pine trees in the random landing zone. You smile widely, running down the hatch to approach it. “It’s just like Arilia!” you exclaim, turning to face Din as he emerges from the ship. The child excitedly waddles out to follow you, its height not much taller than the amount of snow that already covers the ground.

“I thought you’d want something like home to cheer you up,” Din tells you, causing your heart to swell. Your stomach does backflips at the evident care he’s put into this, and you try to distract yourself from it by looking at your surroundings. You bend down to hold the snow in your hands, letting it fall through your fingers. Your smile only grows as fond flashbacks from your childhood start to take over.

“Have you ever seen this much snow?” you ask, looking back over at Din.

He shakes his head, still standing on the hatch. “Just ice.”

You smile slyly, bending down to grab a handful of snow. “So, it’s your first time, huh?” You shift the snow between your hands, secretly shaping it as you continue to talk to him. “Well, there’s one thing you should absolutely learn about snow.” Din’s helmet tilts at you as you speak, and you can’t help giggling a bit before you continue. “Never trust anyone with it.” You then launch your perfect snowball at him, seeing it hit his beskar and break off into thousands of pieces. Din steps back in shock, and you double over in laughter at his shocked reaction.

“Is this a snowball fight?” Din questions.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Only if you’re daring to make it one.” You gesture towards the snow, waiting for him to make his move.

You see Din lean down slowly, feeling the texture in his gloved hands before he picks up a significant handful. He shapes the snow in the same way you just did, and then takes a few moments to study it. When he’s satisfied, you see him throw it your way, and you laugh as you barely manage to dodge it.

“Now it’s a fight!” you insist, making another snowball and throwing it in his direction. Din chuckles as he barely misses it, throwing one at you again. It brushes your shoulder, and you continue to run around in the snow as you make and throw more. Din even ventures just a bit more into the snow, playing along with you as you throw snowballs and dodge them. The child continuously laughs as it watches you from where it sits in the snow near the hatch.

The fight continues for many minutes before you decide to mess with Din. Knowing your tough ability to withstand a snow attack, you allow one of his snowballs to hit your cheek, and you flop to the snow-covered ground dramatically as a result.

Din exclaims your name, and you hear his boots crunch hurriedly over the snow as he approaches you. “Are you all right? I’m so—.”

He gets cut off by you quickly turning and pulling his arm, making him fall to the snow-covered ground beside you. You laugh as his frame freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do while immersed in the snow. He soon relaxes, looking over to see you cracking up beside him.

“You’re an interesting one, _cyar’ika_ ,” he assures you, letting out a chuckle or two in response to your amused fit.

Once you get out of it, you look at him with a curious gaze. “Will you tell me what that means, now?”

Din looks at you for an extended moment, as if his breath’s caught in his throat. “I… think another time will be better.”

You frown, about to protest when you see a shadow suddenly pass over you. Din sits up quickly, looking behind you.

“Watch out!” Din exclaims, deciding to take action as he leaps gently on top of you and rolls the both of you over in the snow just in time. The creature who’d been standing over you swung its arm too late, just missing the place where your head used to be. You and Din sit up again quickly, observing the large creature with wild eyes. It’s white and furry, standing at least three heads taller than the both of you. It has sharp claws and huge teeth, and it flashes them as it growls at the two of you. “Get back to the ship,” Din demands, pulling out his blaster. You pull out yours, but Din pushes you away. “ _Go!_ I’ll handle it!”

You oblige, remembering the child sitting nearby. You start to hurry off, but in your panic you find yourself tripping and falling back into the snow, twisting your injured leg weirdly along the way. You cry out in pain, feeling part of the wound rip back open. You curse through gritted teeth, managing to stand back up again and reach the child. You pick it up in your arms and hurry up the hatch.

Once you’re inside, you set the child down onto the ground, soon collapsing beside it. You hold your now-bleeding leg in your hand, trying to apply pressure to keep the bleeding from getting worse. You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from swearing in front of the child or making other noises of pain. You soon see Din running onto the hatch, closing it just in time for the large creature to get barred out. He practically leaps up into the cockpit, getting you both the hell off the planet that turned from a dream to a nightmare so quickly. As soon as you feel the ship leave the atmosphere and zoom into hyperspace, you hear Din come back, and he kneels beside you with strong concern.

“What happened?” he asks you, seeing the blood that coats your hand and part of the floor.

“I reopened part of the injury,” you explain, unable to hold back a wince of pain as you finally talk again.

Din gently takes a hold of your wrist and peels your hand away, assessing the wound. “ _Osik_ ,” he murmurs. _Shit._ He immediately stands to grab his med pack, sorting through his belongings with urgency. As he does so, you spot the child waddling closer out of the corner of your eye. It sees your leg, and it only comes closer, eventually reaching a hand out towards it. You raise an eyebrow, looking to Din as he finally comes back and sees what’s happening. He goes to reach for it. “Not now, kid.”

“Wait,” you stop him, capturing one of his wrists as you see the child’s eyes fall closed. You feel its tiny hand rest on your wound, and soon a strange energy fills the room. Your jaw drops as the skin around your wound starts to stitch itself back together, and after a few more moments, it looks as if nothing had ever happened. The child’s entire body is vibrating by the time the wound is fully healed, and it removes its hand as it falls back onto the ground in weariness.

You share a gaze with Din, unable to believe what you’ve just seen. Then you both look to the child, watching as it appears to nap after its large effort. Both of you aren’t sure what to say, but surprisingly, Din becomes the first one to speak. “It’s just like the mudhorn.”

You raise an eyebrow again as you look at him. “The mudhorn?”

Din catches your gaze with his visor, holding the sleeping child in his arms as he does so. “When I first found the child, I ran into some problems with Jawas and ended up in a mudhorn’s cave. I tried to fight it, but I was cornered, and the kid, it… it somehow made it stop and levitate in mid-air. I don’t know how.” Din then looks down at the child. “This was a very similar act.”

Your mind is in ruins as you try to think of logical explanations. There can’t be one. You’d heard tall tales of sorcerers in the galaxy, but you’d never known what was real and what wasn’t. Now, you’re witnessing it firsthand. “Is this why they want the kid?”

Din shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He brushes a gloved hand protectively over the kid’s head. “But whatever it is, they won’t get it.”

You watch the two of them, wondering how this will affect the future—and how this strange power will be able to keep any kind of hostile force away.


	10. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Crest suffers through a dogfight, Din and the princess are in dire need of both credits and repairs—forcing Din to seek out a job.

A week later, you’re still shaken up by the supernatural abilities of the child you and Din are protecting. It seems inconceivable to you that a creature so tiny could use nothing but some strange energy and its little claws to completely heal a wound so deep and painful—in just a few brief moments. Your mind flashes back to immediately after the event had occurred, when Din had let the child continue its weary state of sleeping stowed away on his old bed.

“Are you all right?” Din had asked you. He’d sat down right next to where you were still frozen, your back leaning against the cold wall of the _Razor Crest_. His modulated voice had failed to hide his concern, and you knew that your gaze refusing to meet his only made him worry further.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, your gaze piercing the bare part of your leg that was exposed by the cut in your pants. A wave of embarrassment had flooded over you at the random presence of healed skin on your thigh, and you didn’t have another change of clothes on hand. Plus, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the child. “But is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Din reassured you, gingerly resting one of his gloved hands over yours that had started messing with the fringing edge of your torn pants. That action had gotten you to finally look over at him, where you saw his visor watching you intently. “This happened last time, too. It just… tires him out, I think.”

You had shaken your head in utter disbelief, still trying to process everything. This revealed a whole new side to this child you were protecting. If it truly possessed powers as potent as that, you couldn’t fathom how much blood could be shed over it. “Din, have you ever worried that we’re in way over our heads right now?”

Din gave you a nod. “All the time.” He had then sighed, his visor falling to your hands as he watched his thumb continually brush over the back of your hand. “But I know what we’re doing is right.” He had paused, as if he were processing his thoughts. “That’s why I hesitated when I first brought him in. I knew what he was capable of, and that they must’ve known, too… and I couldn’t stand the thought of them hurting and manipulating him.” His voice had become thick with honest emotion. “He saved my life. I owed it to him to save his, too.”

You had felt your heart soften immensely for Din, and you’d let your free hand come around to brush over the part of his helmet where his cheek would likely lay. His visor had looked back up at you. “You know what people are willing to do for this kind of power, Din. We live in a twisted galaxy.”

“I know.” Din’s voice had been full of strain. “I’ve seen it.” His last words where just above a whisper and sounded as if he’d seethed them through tensely gritted teeth. “But I won’t let that happen to him.” His free hand then reached forward to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Or you.”

You’d given him a small smile, dropping your hand from his helmet to take a hold of his hand before he had a chance to bring it away from you. Your hand forced his onto your cheek, where you closed your eyes as you melted into the gloved touch. “Thank you.” The words of honest gratitude had fallen from your lips in the most delicate of manners. When you reopened your eyes, you looked straight into his visor, wishing you could see his eyes yet hoping he could still see the severity you held in yours. “I wish I could take away everything you’ve had to see.”

Din had run his thumb over your cheek in a comforting manner. “You already help much more than you’ll ever know.”

You’d smiled again at that, glad to know that you were at least making some kind of difference in his personal struggles. You broke the trance you’d had with his visor by looking down at your other hand, still seeing it rest on your exposed thigh with Din’s other hand covering yours. In an embarrassed manner, you slid your hand off it, causing Din to bring both of his hands back to himself. He seemed surprised by your shy action at first, but soon understood.

“Next time we stop somewhere, we’ll get you some new clothes,” Din had assured you softly. “But if this can help for now…” He paused, sitting up a bit to grab his cape out from under him. His hands fumbled with the bottom of it, until you soon realized that he was tearing off a bottom strip of the fabric. He took the piece and gently wrapped it around the exposed part of your skin, securing it with a knot on the back of your leg.

Your face was warm the entire time, your heart softening at his actions yet pounding at his intimate touch. The only way you could think of thanking him was by giving him more of the affectionate touch he’d been missing for many years, nestling yourself into his chest as you both drew each other closer.

When the memory fades, you find yourself playing with the ends of the knot that still fly free from your thigh. You haven’t gotten your new clothes, because—unfortunately—you didn’t have enough credits for it. The supply from your fortune that you’d had finally depleted, and the rest of your fortune’s still hiding in your quaint Nevarro hideout. You and Din both know there’s not a chance of you going back there anytime soon, and without him doing recent jobs, he’s also out of credits. He’s insisted upon doing another job, but you’ve tried to assure him that you all can survive for a while longer without the need to spend anything. The thought of Din going on a dangerous job was enough to make you quiver in fear for his safety.

The child, who’s resting in your other arm in the cockpit’s spare seat, coos as it watches you play with the knot. You smile, watching it fumble with the metal sphere Din always lets it play with. Upon looking up, your gaze instinctively checks in on Din, who’s appearing to do some planet searching on his dashboard. You’re about to speak to him when something else cuts you off.

A loud crashing sound appears out of nowhere, causing the _Crest_ to rock violently from where it’s been floating around amidst the stars. You hold the child more securely with your arm while using the other to root you both in place. Din’s helmet looks around the perimeter of the ship wildly, trying to find the source—until it makes itself known.

“You can’t run now, Mando,” a voice sounds over the intercom, causing your heart to fall into your stomach.

You cover the child’s ears as you hear Din curse loudly. He turns around briefly to face you. “Hold on!” he exclaims, turning back to launch the _Crest_ into action. You wrap both your arms around the child and try to use your legs to hold you both in your seat as Din tries to flee your sudden attacker.

You hear the sounds of more blaster fire followed by a few violent jolts of the _Crest_. The child coos curiously in your arms, and you continually pet a hand over its head to keep it calm. Din’s hands fly around the controls as he whirs the _Crest_ through space, trying to get around the shots and keep the _Crest_ intact. Din pilots the ship from side to side and a few times upside-down, making your stomach run in circles from the adrenaline and the unnatural movements. The bounty hunter quips a few more things over the intercom, but they’re drowned out from your ears by the constant crashes and groans of the struggling _Crest_. One phrase, though, sticks out pointedly through the chaos, making the blood roar even louder in your ears: “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

And you can tell that Din is _pissed_.

His demeanor changes entirely as he suddenly pulls the _Crest_ to an abrupt stop. You slam your hand against the head of Din’s chair to keep yourself and the child from flying forward. The hunter’s fighter flies in front of you, hitting part of the _Crest_ on the way—and landing just in Din’s aim. He holds the triggers with angrily clenched fists.

“That’s _my_ line,” Din seethes over the intercom. He then clicks his fingers on the triggers, launching the shots that bring the hunter’s fighter into bright flames. You and Din only get to have a few mere moments of relief before everything goes dark—a sure sign of a larger problem. Din tries to mess with the controls, but nothing seems to be working. The _Crest_ has appeared to almost die completely.

“Din?” you ask with concern, attempting to shush the child as it coos with laughter at all the recent action. “What’s happening?”

Din remains silent for a moment as he rises from his chair quickly. He walks to the back of the cockpit, pushing a lever that brings the _Crest_ back to life. You release a tense breath, closing your eyes for a moment as your body attempts to pump out the rest of your adrenaline. You reopen your eyes when you feel Din’s hand grab your shoulder. “Are you two all right?” he asks, his voice revealing both his concern and his dulling panic.

“We’re fine,” you assure him. “But I don’t think the _Crest_ is.”

At mentioning the ship, Din returns to the pilot’s seat, beginning to fumble with the controls again. “You’re right.” He goes to test an engine, noticing that it’s almost completely busted. “ _Osik._ ” _Shit._ He tries to identify the nearest planet for landing, but upon reading its name, he freezes. You raise an eyebrow.

“What is it?” you dare to ask him.

Din turns around to look at you. “We have to land here,” he begins to explain. “But I don’t want to bring you here.”

A cold rush of concern runs through you. “Why? What planet is it?”

Din’s visor doesn’t leave you as he answers in a single, gruff word. “Tatooine.”

Many memories of fleeing to the desert planet, training until your entire body ached, and watching as the Imps began their takeover flooded your mind immediately. Yet, knowing the urgency of the situation and wanting to protect both Din and the child, you bravely face the situation. “Don’t worry, Din, I’ll be all right. That was a long time ago.”

Din tilts his helmet slightly. “Are you sure?”

You shrug. “We don’t have any other option. They’re not all bad memories, anyway.”

Din gives you a hesitant nod, turning back around to call into the Mos Eisley tower. You heave a sigh and pull the child closer into your arms, absorbing its comfort as you reenter one of the many planets you never wanted to return to.

The _Crest_ is able to land in its designated hangar with grace, considering the condition it’s in. You still hear it puff and protest in exhaustion as Din lands it, and you hope that whoever’s looking to fix it can make quick work of it before they have time to ask questions.

Din stands up once everything’s settled, and you do the same. The child has since fallen asleep in your arms, likely tired out by the excitement of the previous event. Din, however, is still looking at you.

“If anyone asks, this wasn’t caused by a shootout,” Din states firmly. “We don’t need them knowing the terms of our travel.”

You give him a nod, following him out of the cockpit. You let the sleeping child rest in its designated compartment, sealing the door closed behind you. Just as you go to turn around and join Din on the hatch, you hear the shot of a blaster, and your head whips around rapidly. You see Din putting his blaster back into his holster slowly, and you run up to meet him. “What happened?” you question him urgently.

“Droids,” he mutters.

“ _Hey!_ ” a squeaky voice proclaims from somewhere in the hangar. You protectively reach for the blaster in your holster, but Din stops you with his arm. “Hey!” It’s then that you spot the small woman, her frazzled hair bouncing as she stalks towards your direction. You and Din walk down the ramp to meet her. “You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it!”

“Just keep them away from my ship,” Din responds gruffly. You remain close by his side, still feeling skeptical about the stranger.

“Yeah?” she scoffs, looking Din up and down before doing the same to you. “You think that’s a good idea, do ya’?” She pauses for a moment, turning her attention to the _Crest_. “Let’s look at your ship.” She then approaches the _Crest_ , taking out some tools as she assesses it. You look up at Din, seeing him shrug back down at you. “ _Oof_ … look at that.” She knocks on the metal exterior a few times. “Ugh, you’ve got a lot of carbon scoring up top! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were in a shootout!”

You look back up at Din worriedly, and you’re about to deny the accusation when he shakes his head at you vigorously. You bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from talking, turning back to the woman.

“You got a fuel leak!” she continues to rant. “Look at that… this is a mess! How did you even land?” She turns back to the both of you, looking pointedly at Din as she crosses her arms. “That’s gonna set you back.”

Din sighs heavily, reaching into his pocket to dig out whatever remains of his credits. “I’ve got two hundred Imperial credits,” he informs her, tossing the small bag to her.

“That’s it?” she scoffs, investigating the bag and then looking back up at Din. You scowl slightly under your breath. “That’ll at least cover the hangar.” Her look becomes full of judgement as she stares at Din intensely. Frustration fills you—not just at her, but also at yourself for letting your credits run out. If you’d grabbed them off Nevarro first, you’d be fine.

“Look, I’ll get you your money,” Din assures her. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow, not liking how that sounds.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard _that_ one before,” she sighs, allowing Din to start walking towards the exit of the hangar. You pursue him quickly, but not before hearing the woman add under her breath, “Womp-rat.” You almost turn around to give her a piece of your mind, but you feel Din’s gloved hand grab your arm firmly, keeping you from doing so. He stops altogether, facing you as you stand just in front of the archway of the hangar.

“How do you intend on getting this money?” you whisper, trying to keep your conversation private. Your eyes study Din nervously.

He’s silent for a moment, knowing you’re not going to like what he has to say. “I’m going to find a job,” he informs you. “And I’ll use that money.”

“ _No_ ,” you insist, your eyes desperate as you hold his upper arms tightly with your hands. “Din, please don’t. It’s too—.”

“We have no choice,” Din reminds you, his modulated voice remaining firm. “We need money to get the _Crest_ fixed, or else we’re stuck here long enough to be found again.”

“But—Well—,” you stutter, trying to think of another solution, “—maybe I can try to find someone I know, from before. They might be willing to help us.”

Din shook his helmet once. “No. Someone has to stay here, with the child, and I don’t want you walking out in Mos Eisley on your own.”

You frown at him, dropping your hands from his arms. “You don’t think I can handle myself, don’t you?”

“Don’t be like that, _cyar’ika_. That’s not what I think at all.” He sighs heavily, his helmet leaning closer to you as he continues. “The Bounty Hunter’s Guild used to operate out of here. I don’t know how many may be left, and I sure as hell don’t want to take the chance that they may be coming after you.” Your gaze falls at his words, realizing he’s right. You could defend yourself, and he knows that, but if it’s a collection of bounty hunters… it’s not safe for you, and your odds are practically impossible. “Look, I’ll just get a simple job that won’t take long, and then we’ll be out of here and back to safety.”

You look back up at him, seeing his visor staring at you pointedly. You give him a nod. “Okay. Just… please…” You trail off, looking down as you reach for both of his hands and secure them in yours. “ _Please_ be careful. Believe it or not, I’m just as concerned about your safety as you are about mine.”

Din removes one of his hands from yours to tilt your chin back up at him. The straight posture of his helmet indicates his severity. “I will be. Before I go on any job, I’ll come back here. Promise.”

You nod, releasing his hand and taking a step back to let him leave. Din gives you one last nod before he leaves, and you cross your arms as you watch him go. Your heart is still full of worry, and you silently give a prayer up to the Maker over his safety.

“Your boyfriend’s gone to get a job?” the woman suddenly asks from behind you, causing you to turn around and face her. “His ship’s walking a fine line to being a piece of junk.”

“Oh, he’s—he’s not my…” You hesitate, not really sure about how to answer that. It’s still a blurred line of very loyal companionship and romance between you and Din at the moment, and you’re not sure what title you would give him.

“No need to lie, sweets,” the woman assures you. “I know it’s probably hard to have a boyfriend who’s a Mandalorian. Never getting to see his face.”

You shrug. “We manage.”

The woman gives you a small smile, beckoning you over to where she’s standing with a small wave. You hesitate at first, but soon come closer, walking until you’re right beside her. She looks at you with now-kind eyes. “Tell me, what’s your name?” You keep it at your first name. “Ah,” she reflects, looking at you with a curious gaze. “I’m Peli. And you… seem very familiar.”

You freeze, hoping she doesn’t know you from your days dwelling on Tatooine. “Working at a place like this probably lets you see a lot of the same kinds of faces.”

Suddenly, Peli snaps her fingers and point them at you. “The Princess of Arilia! Did I get it right? Are you really still alive?”

You sigh, grimacing a bit. “Yes.”

“Everyone was real worried about you.” Peli’s eyes are bright as she further observes you. “What have you been up to these days?”

“Well—,” you begin, racking your mind for excuses. You, however, are cut off by a dull roaring sound that emerges from the _Crest_. You turn your head in its direction quickly, suddenly remembering that it’s not just you two in the vicinity.

“What is _that?_ ” Peli whisper-yells, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” you assure her, walking forward to head towards the ramp.

“Wait!” Peli protests, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “What if it’s not safe?”

You gesture to the blaster in your holster, giving her a reassuring nod. She releases your arm hesitantly and watches as you head into the _Crest_. Almost immediately, you see the sleepy child waddling towards you, its big eyes looking confused upon waking up to neither you nor Din. When it spots you, however, it coos affectionately. “Morning, sunshine,” you greet softly, bending down to pick it up. You pet its head as it gives you a toothy smile, its ears rising on its head. You turn to walk back out of the _Crest_ , seeing a surprised Peli. “See? Everything’s fine.”

She tilts her head curiously at the green bundle in your arms. “What is it?”

You show her the face of the stirring child, seeing it observe her with its gentle eyes. “Our…” you pause as you think of the term Din has used for it, “… foundling.”

“Foundling?” Peli echoes.

“Adopted orphan child,” you clarify for her.

“I see.” Peli comes closer in a hesitant manner, reaching a hand out as if to touch the child’s ear. She looks to you first, waiting for a nod of approval before doing so. She smiles a bit as it coos up at her. “How cute!”

You smile as well, looking down at the bundle in your arms. She was right; while it’s most definitely different from any child you’ve ever seen before, you couldn’t imagine taking care of anything cuter.

Peli has invited you into her small office and struck up a conversation for a while by the time Din returns. You’ve just finished feeding the child, and you haven’t really even noticed his appearance until you _hear_ him. “Where are they?” his modulated voice demands in a panic-stricken and aggressive tone, his figure frozen as he stands on the ramp of the _Crest_.

“We’re right here!” you assure him, pulling the child tighter into your arms as you stand from where you’ve been sitting and make yourself visible to Din. You see a visible tension fall from his shoulders as he moves to approach you, and you meet him in the middle. “Did you find a job?” Din gives you a curt nod. “What’s the bounty?”

Din hesitates, as if he doesn’t want to tell you. “Fennec Shand.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Who’s that?”

“An elite mercenary.”

Your eyes double in size. “An _elite mercenary?_ Din, you said a simple job!”

“I know, but this is all I could find.” He rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t be alone.” You crease your brow in curiosity. “I’m helping a rookie out. Toro needs the bounty, and I need the money.”

You nod in understanding, feeling only some of the worry leave you. “Okay. I guess that’s better.”

Din gives a nod of approval. “I would take you with me, so we could look out for each other, but someone needs to stay here with the child, and I thought you wouldn’t want to—.”

“You’re right,” you assure him. “I’m okay with staying here, as long as you come back… quickly.”

Din hoists the travel bag he’s packed himself over his shoulder as he starts to lead the way out of another archway of the hangar. You follow him closely. “I would like that, too.” He sighs. “But, she’s far out there. It may be a day or so until you see me again.”

Your heart twists in the most frightening of ways, but you try to stay strong, knowing that Din has to do this job and you have to protect the child. “Okay.”

At the sound of your voice, which you thought you’d disguised well, Din’s helmet instantly turns to look at you. “I _will_ be back.”

You simply keep walking as you follow him out of the hangar, stopping at the sight of two speederbikes sitting in front of the vast, empty dunes of Tatooine. You then turn to him, looking up at him with a serious gaze. “Promise?”

Din takes one of your hands that’s wrapped around the child into both of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “ _Promise_.”

You nod, watching as Din pets the child’s head affectionately before walking towards one of the speederbikes. You finally notice the other man who’s standing there, his dark eyes watching you curiously. His gaze turns to Din as he chuckles a bit. “ _Aw_ , I didn’t know you had a family, Mando.”

Din’s helmet turns quickly towards him, a sure sign of him beckoning Toro to shut up. He inspects the speederbike and, after giving the rookie another disapproving look, he swings his leg over the bike and seats himself onto it. You bite your lip between your teeth to keep yourself from protesting at his departure, watching as the two soon take off towards the empty horizon.

And that’s the last time you see him. For just longer than a day.


	11. The Rookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess anxiously awaits Din’s return, just to fall into the hands of his supposed partner instead.

You drive yourself crazy waiting for Din to return, constantly pacing around and busying yourself with whatever tedious task you can to distract yourself. Peli, feeling sympathetic for you, lets you shadow her as she works on the Razor _Crest_ , and you both make the necessary work go much faster—since Din had insisted upon no droids assisting her. It manages to give you at least something else to think about and focus on. Yet, when the Tatooine suns are high in the sky once again and there’s been no sign of Din, you’ve started to assume the worst.

The work’s done, and now you have nothing else to do but torment yourself with thoughts of Din’s job going bad. You sit in one of the chairs of Peli’s office with the child resting in your arms, your eyes closed as you attempt to get some rest. She’s gone to get some more supplies, and she let you have the office to yourself. You barely slept last night, and while your exhaustion weighs heavily upon you, it’s still extremely difficult to try to sleep with the worries that consume you.

You do, however, manage to drift in and out—until you’re rudely awoken by the sound of binders clasping shut. Your eyes shoot open, and you look to see the child no longer in your arms. Those same binders enclose your arms together. A cold rush of horror runs through you as you look up to see none other than Toro standing above you, holding your blaster in his one of his hands. The child’s secured in his other arm. The absence of Din makes your heart skip a beat.

“Where is he?” you ask, your voice sounding low and threatening. When he doesn’t answer, you yell louder. “ _Where is he?_ ”

“He’s probably realizing that the bounty’s dead, and he’s next,” Toro remarks.

You scoff, shaking your head as you do so. “You can’t kill him. You’d die trying.”

“I’m not going to kill him.” Toro’s voice is full of arrogance as he looks down at the confused child in his arm. “I’m going to turn him in to the Guild.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You really think you’re going to be able to do that?”

Toro smiles menacingly at you. “Yes.” He pauses as he puts your blaster on his belt, reaching that hand forward to hold your chin and force you to keep looking up at him. “Thanks to you. You’re my bait.”

Feeling disgusted by his touch, you spit at him, landing it on his arm. He shakes it away in disgust, turning back to you with a dark look. He grabs you by the collar of your shirt and throws you towards the corner of the office, causing you to grunt in pain when your head and body meet the hard wall viciously. He walks over to grab a piece of fabric from his belt, tying it around your mouth so you’re no longer audible.

“You’ll regret that later. For now, you can sit tight until the transaction’s complete.”

You continue to glare at him, intending on standing back up and freeing your way out as soon as he leaves. He, however, thinks one step ahead, giving the droids that still linger a command to make sure you stay inside and Din stays out or else he’ll destroy them. They comply, and the three of them keep watch both outside of the office’s foggy glass and on you.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the corner of that office, waiting for Din to come back to the mess you’ve gotten into. At one point, you hear Peli return, but Toro whisks her away into wherever he’s been hiding himself and the child. During the entirety of that time, you can’t stop feeling guilty for letting this rookie bounty hunter manage to take away the child and lock you up so easily. You’re a fighter, and a damn good one at that, and you didn’t even allow yourself a chance at proving that. You’d fallen right into the trap, and now it was only Din who could get you all out of it.

Suddenly, you hear movement outside of the office again. The droids duck their heads down, and you try to crane your neck to see what’s happening. The movements are as quiet and swift as possible, and your heart flutters at the thought of it being Din.

“Took you long enough, Mando,” you suddenly hear Toro’s voice say, and you perk up at the name he addresses.

_He’s back. He’s all right._

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now, huh, partner?” You grimace at the sound of his arrogant voice.

“Where is she?” Your heart practically flies at the sound of Din’s voice. You try to call out to him, but the cloth around your mouth drowns out every sound.

“You’ll find out once you drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

You continue to hear silence, and you hope Din doesn’t comply with his words. You soon, however, hear the dull sound of his blaster hitting the sand, and you close your eyes in worry.

“Cuff him,” Toro commands someone, who you assume to be Peli. The tension in the air is enough to practically choke you, if the cloth around your mouth wasn’t already doing an effective enough job at that. “You’re a Guild _traitor_ , Mando. And I’m willin’ to bet that this here is the target that you helped to escape.” You cringe at the thought of Toro holding the child. The continued silence on Din’s behalf makes you uneasy. “Fennec was right—bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild… it’ll make me _legendary_.”

There’s more silence, and your stomach stirs in anticipation. Suddenly, you see a bright flashing of light. You squint your eyes and feel your heart begin to pound when the sound of blaster fire comes soon after. Then, you hear a single shot from Din’s blaster, and then the sound of a large _thump_ against the sand. You let out a breath of relief, assuming that Din’s been able to take out the overconfident rookie. There’s a sound of rustling, as if Din’s searching the body. You feel fear fill you for the child’s safety.

“Where is it?” Peli’s voice appears next, and you can hear them looking around the hangar. You close your eyes as the worries run through you.

Then, you hear the child’s coos, and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding.

“There you are!” Peli exclaims in relief. “Were you hiding from us?”

Despite the confirmation of the child being found, you can still hear restless searching, and now you assume Din’s looking for you. You try to call out to him, but the cloth stops you again, and you curse a few times to yourself as your head falls back against the wall in frustration.

“Do you know where she is?” Din’s modulated voice doesn’t even try to hide his panic as it addresses Peli. “What did he do with her? Is she safe?”

“I haven’t seen her,” Peli informs him.

The droids, no longer in fear of being killed, instantly rush out of the office. You raise an eyebrow, trying to stand up but—not having any arms to help—realize you can’t.

“What’s that, guys?” Peli asks the droids. “She’s in there?”

Without a moment of hesitation, you can hear Din’s footsteps coming closer to the office, and relief sweeps over you as soon as you see him in front of you. “ _Cyar’ika,_ ” he breathes, running over to you and dropping to his knees as he releases your binders and removes the cloth from around your mouth. In the whirlwind of relief and alleviation of the horrors that’ve been haunting you for over a day, you find your vision blurry, and the first thing you can think of doing is throwing your arms around Din’s neck and burying your face in the cloth that covers it.

“Din,” your voice comes out sounding like a gasp. “I was soworried.”

“I’m sorry,” Din remarks, his voice sounding full of the same emotion as yours. “I should’ve seen it coming. I thought he’d gotten away with you two, and…” He trails off, just pulling you in closer as he gets the two of you off the ground. He regretfully pulls you away from him to cup one of your cheeks in his hand. “You’re okay?”

You nod. “I’m fine. I just… I was really worried about you.”

Din lets out a sigh. “Me too. I couldn’t stop thinking about the two of you.”

You continue looking at him, now feeling the guilt rush over you. “I’m so sorry, Din. He got to the child before I even had a chance to—.”

“This isn’t on you,” Din assures you firmly. “He wanted _me_. He wouldn’t have hurt the child—and thank Maker he didn’t hurt you.”

You give him a nod, not fully convinced but willing to sideline it for the moment. Din leads the way back out of the office, where you see Peli rocking the child gently. Her eyes light up upon seeing you.

“You’re all right!” Peli cheers, giving you a smile. “I guess I left at the wrong time for those supplies, huh?”

You manage a laugh, shaking your head as you take the child from her arms. It looks up at you with a loud coo, and you brush your hand over its ear in return. You watch as Din wanders over to the body of Toro and digs into his pocket, taking something out of it. Meanwhile, Peli sighs lightly.

“So, I take it you didn’t get paid,” Peli says, looking at Din with disappointment. He, however, empties the contents of whatever he’s taken from Toro—and hundreds of credits fall out onto Peli’s hands. She looks at it with wide eyes.

“Does that cover us?” Din asks, tossing the wallet to the side.

“Yeah, that just about covers ya’,” Peli assures him. She gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder and the child an affectionate tap on the head before she heads back towards her office. You feel Din’s hand rest on your back, bringing your attention back to him.

“Ready to go?” Din questions, gesturing towards the ship.

You nod, following him inside with the child pulled close to you. In the lighting of the _Crest_ , you can’t help noticing the dark smears across the front of his cuirass, mirroring something of a strong blaster shot. You grimace, making a mental note to question that as you follow Din into the cockpit.

Silence pursues as Din takes off, letting the _Crest_ get used to its new condition before leaving the atmosphere and punching into hyperspace. Once the autopilot’s on, Din turns to you, tilting his head as he spots you rocking the sleeping child.

“I’m going to put it to bed,” you tell Din in a soft whisper, so as to not awaken the child. “Then, I’d like to talk.” You gesture with your eyes to the mark on his cuirass, and he looks at it himself. You stand up without hearing an answer, descending the ladder and setting the bundled child down gently onto its bed. You smile slightly at its peaceful state—wishing you could feel the same way—and close the door. As soon as you turn around, you see Din standing nearby, his helmet tilted in curiosity. “What happened here?” You walk towards him, reaching a hand out to delicately touch the blackened armor.

Din lets out a breath. “An MK-modified rifle.”

Your eyes double in size, your fingers remaining where they are as you look up at Din with concern. “A _sniper bolt?_ You were being _sniped?_ ”

Din takes the hand you’ve left on his chest and holds it in both of his. “And I’m all right, aren’t I? It’s okay. The beskar held up.”

You sigh, still observing the place where it struck. You know it still had to hurt him, just judging by the staining it left behind. You take your free hand and place it back over the spot, pressing down on it with just a bit of pressure. Instantly, you hear Din hiss under his helmet, even though you know he’d tried to hold it back.

“You’re hurt under there,” you inform him, your voice full of worry. You look up at his visor with pleading eyes. “Can we take care of it? Please?”

Din seems hesitant at first, but he soon obliges, giving you a nod. You smile slightly in relief, beckoning him towards the place you’d both sat before when the child had healed you. Din sits with his back against the wall as you reach for the medical supplies. You kneel beside him, setting the supplies down as you grab the edges of his cuirass.

“We’ll clean this after,” you assure him, pulling hard to take the metal off. When it comes loose, you place it to the side, turning back to Din. You figure he won’t need to remove anymore of his armor, but he’s already removed his pauldrons and put those to the side as well. You take in a breath as your fingers look for the hem of the thick shirt he always wears underneath the armor, and once you find it, you look back up at him for approval. When he gives you another nod, you gingerly pull the material up until you can the skin of his entire upper body.

Your eyes can’t help grazing over the fading battle scars and scattered bruises, and your heart softens instantly. It visually reminds you that Din really is a human being under all that armor, and he feels all the same pain as you and many others. You try not to dwell on the toned muscles you can see, acquired from many years spent training and exerting themselves in battle, but you can’t help it. There is, however, one thing that sticks out the most—and it’s a huge, dark bruise spread across the same place where the shot had hit Din’s cuirass.

“Oh, Din,” you breathe, your fingers running gently over the bruise. You can hear the faintest wince from Din even at your delicate touch, which breaks your heart. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”

You reach into the medical supplies and take out whatever you can to help the bruise, finding a bottle and a bacta patch as the best solutions. You first squeeze whatever’s in the bottle out onto two of your fingers and move towards Din’s chest, beginning to rub it in circles over the bruise. Din grunts at the feeling, and you offer your free hand for him to take. He begins to squeeze it as you continue. Once that’s finished, you get the bacta patch ready, placing it as gently as you can over the bruised skin. You take a deep breath when it’s in place, your hand still lingering on his chest.

The moment instantly changes, then. Din’s wound’s been taken care of, and you can busy yourself now with cleaning his beskar—but you can’t bring yourself to lean away from him. Your eyes focus intently on the place your fingers are still touching, your other hand still tight in Din’s grasp. You don’t move, and barely even breathe, wanting to absorb the closeness you have right now. It’s the most human contact you’ve had in too long—and you can imagine that it’s the same for Din.

You’re surprised when his free hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, moving your hand across his chest. When he stops, your hand remains over the left part of his chest, right over his heart. You can feel the way it’s racing—just like your own. You finally look up at him, seeing his visor looking down at you intently.

“We’re sitting here, in hyperspace, with no threats or excitement around,” Din tells you softly. “And yet my heart is still pounding.”

You part your lips, wanting to speak but being unable to find any words. Your gaze observes the helmet closely, and your mind flashes back to all the worry you felt when he’d been out on the job. How you only wanted to see him walking into that hangar. How you feared you’d never see him again when Toro returned without him. And that’s when you find your response, knowing that it must be said. “Din,” you begin, your voice strong yet hushed in emotion. Your gaze drops to your hand on his chest. “I… I have feelings for you.” You look back up at his helmet, seeing it stare back at you as still as a stone. “More than just as a companion, or even just as a home. You’re my home because I don’t want to be anywhere without you. When I thought you were gone, I was _so_ scared, and I couldn’t imagine having to live again without you. I really, _really_ care about you, Din.”

Din’s visor simply stares at you for a few long moments. Finally, he releases his grip on your wrist, instead bringing that hand to cup your cheek with his gloved hand. His thumb brushes over your cheek affectionately. “ _Cyar’ika,_ ” Din responds, using the same tone as you, “means ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart.’” Your heart instantly swells, the air leaving your lungs almost entirely in disbelief. “I’ve been trying to tell you the same thing ever since our last night in the village. I think it’s no secret that I’m not eloquent with words, so I resorted to using that.” Din pauses, taking his hand off of your cheek and removing his other hand from your grasp. He then reaches to take his gloves off, leaving just the calloused hands which remain underneath. His hands fall onto both sides of your face, and you close your eyes as you observe his warm and intimate touch. “Because you’re dear to _me_.”

You reopen your eyes, seeing blurriness because of your pure shock and deep feelings. All you want to do in this moment is kiss him with all the passion you feel in your heart, but you know that you can’t, and so you instead opt for another way. You use one of your hands to press one of his further towards your lips, giving his palm the most tender of kisses. Your hand that’s still over Din’s heart can sense the change in pace at your actions. You haven’t realized how much you’ve craved this kind of affection and intimacy in your life, and you know it’s the same for Din. Your heart swells at the thought of you two, with such similar pasts and struggles, finally getting to experience the bliss of affection and trust with each other. “Does this mean that you… that we’re…” you trail off, waiting on him to fill in your thoughts.

“Yes,” Din answers with a chuckle at your bashfulness. He then brings one of his hands to the back of your head, beckoning you towards his chest. “Come here, _cyar’ika._ ”

You do as he says, resting your head against his heated chest. Your arms wrap around his strong torso as his pull you in close to him. You reach your lips out to give his chest a small kiss, closing your eyes as you absorb the feeling of such life in him. Din’s helmet comes down to rest against your head. No words have to be spoken in this moment, since your actions say it all. You can feel your heart practically soaring above to the Maker, and you swear you’ve never felt so comfortable, safe, and happy in your life. Eventually, though, you begin to think rationally, and find that you can’t sit in this spot forever. “Your cuirass, Din,” you remind him softly. “It has to be cleaned.”

“We can take care of that later,” Din assures you. “Why don’t we just go rest now, together? I sure as hell need it, and I can believe that you barely got any sleep last night.”

You nod to agree, chuckling a bit as you lift your head from Din’s chest. He pulls his shirt back down and stands up, helping you up as well. He leaves the cuirass and medical supplies where they lay, leading you into your room and allowing you to get onto the cot first. He follows, and—differently from any other time you’ve shared this cot—he takes you into his arms, letting you bury your face in his chest as you relax into him. You finally feel all of the worries, horrors, and guilt leave you as you rest in his arms, not even getting the chance to bid him goodnight before you fall asleep.


	12. The Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the lack of credits has driven the princess to hunger, Din finds himself looking for yet another job—but this time, it’s not for a bounty.

You and Din have lost track of how much time has passed since the job on Tatooine. You’ve managed to stay afloat in space, not once stopping for a stretch of your legs or a morsel of food. You both agreed that you had enough to get by with, and it wasn’t worth the risk for the child or for either one of you—because, if there was one thing you learned from your trip to Tatooine, it’s that Din’s just as wanted by the hunters as you are. It’s been a sacrifice, allowing yourselves to nearly go insane by seeing nothing but the stars for a countless amount of time, but everything’s easier with each other. Din’s been more than okay with doing nothing but watching you play with the child and then holding you close until you drift off into peaceful sleep in his arms—a place where he knows you’re safe and can continue making sure of that. It’s been hard, but it’s been okay.

That is, until Din finds out that you haven’t been eating.

The rations have been depleting slowly but surely, and Din always makes sure he leaves much more for you and the child than he does for himself. He’s adjusted his appetite over the years to be mild, since he can’t find many moments in the day to easily eat. So, he splits up the servings between the three of you and takes the smallest one, wanting you and the child to be well-nourished. He’s thought it’s been working, but he soon finds out that he’s gravely mistaken, and he should’ve known it all along.

It happened when you fell asleep from your utter fatigue in the co-pilot’s chair. Din had been talking to you, so when you stopped responding, he wasted no time turning around quickly to see if you were okay. He almost panicked at the sight of your limp form in the chair, but he couldn’t help smiling underneath his helmet when he saw your steady breathing, the familiar rise and fall of your chest that he so often observed before. His heart hurt a bit at the thought of you being so tired that you’d practically passed out in the chair—something that’s had yet to happen.

Carefully, he’d stood up from his chair, walking over to you and scooping his arms gingerly under your body to carry you down to the cot. He paused, however, once he’d lifted you and realized that you felt much lighter than usual. Trying not to wake you but also making sure he wasn’t going crazy, he bounced you a few times in his arms, testing the weight again. Each time, it felt different— _unhealthily_ different. His concern grew, and he found himself rushing to get you back down to the cot so he could investigate further.

Once you were laying on top of the cot, Din tried to find a sign of illness or injury on you that could be causing your dramatic decrease in weight. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’d somehow gotten hurt and not told him, thus causing such fatigue, but he wasn’t sure if that was the answer. When he saw nothing on your exposed skin, he dared to reach for the hem of the shirt you wore underneath your vest, his gloved hands holding the fabric delicately as he pulled it up just enough to see your stomach—and that was all he needed. His heart shattered in his chest when he noticed that each one of your ribs was visible, as if your skin had started shrinking around them. He placed a delicate hand over your stomach and felt it rumble viciously beneath him, which became the final telltale sign of what was happening.

Din didn’t know why you hadn’t been eating, but he _needed_ to, and so after he grabbed one of the last ration packs from the depleting supplies, he dared to start waking you up. He knew, however, that you were more honest about what was on your mind when you were drowsy, so he began talking to you as soon as he got you stirring.

“Morning,” Din joked, running his hand over your head as your lazy eyes blinked up at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you’d answered with a yawn, making Din chuckle a bit—despite the darkness he felt underneath it all.

“What’d you dream about?” Din continued, making sure his modulated voice remained soft and hid any traces of concern. “The nice, warm meal we’ll have once we land somewhere again?”

You’d giggled softly at his wording, closing your eyes as you laid there. “I wish.” You’d then stopped, opening your eyes again to look at Din. “I’m _so_ hungry, Din.” You’d let out a whimper and huddled yourself into Din’s figure, hiding your face against the clothed part of his torso that sat beside you. He felt his heart sink when your arms also wrapped around your own stomach.

Din had welcomed your closer presence, continually running his hand over your head as he kept looking down at your weak figure. “Have you been eating at all?”

You’d looked back up at him then, and that’s when he saw the change in you—your acknowledgement of what you’d already told him and what you couldn’t keep telling him. “Yes,” you’d lied, and Din saw right through it. “Rations just aren’t as filling—but they’re fine. They do the trick.”

Din tilted his helmet at you, hoping he’d get you to tell the truth. “You don’t have to lie. I can tell you haven’t been eating. You’re light as a feather, and…” he paused, not sure if he should continue telling you what he’d observed, “… your ribs, they’re… prominent.”

Your expression had defeat written all over it, and Din could see it further in your eyes as you sighed lightly. “I’ve been giving most of my share to the child,” you’d told him, unable to meet Din’s gaze any longer. “I usually have one or two bites after I feed him, and he’s always looking so longingly because of his own hunger, so I give the rest to him.”

Din had been glad you couldn’t see his face then, because he knew he was grimacing hard—mainly at himself for letting this happen. “You need to take care of yourself too. We’ve talked about this.”

“I know, I know, I just… I couldn’t stand seeing him hungry. And I thought I could manage the hunger better than him, y’know.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me, so we could go get more?”

“Because going to get more means that you have to get another job, and I—Din, I can’t let that happen again.”

The pure fear in your confession had made Din’s heart soften. He moved his hand from your head to your cheek, letting his gloved thumb brush over it as he spoke. “I appreciate your concern, _cyar’ika_ , and I understand why you feel this way after Tatooine.” He had paused, letting out a soft breath as he thought for a moment. “But I can’t sit here and let you starve. I have to take care of you.”

You’d blinked up at him, your eyes continuing to betray your fear. “And I have to take care of _you_ , Din. If you go on another job, then I can’t do that, and I can’t have that.”

Your wording had caused Din to think; you were already assuming that another job meant it’d just be Din, going after some random bounty that wasn’t for the Guild. If he could, however, find a job that you could do _together_ … it would change everything. Then, you could look out for each other. “Look, I’ll try to find something that we can both do,” he proposed, seeing some of the tension fall from you already, “and it won’t be with bounties. All right?”

You’d nodded, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back to where it’d been before. Din pulled you in close, not daring to join you in slumber as he tried to think quickly about what he could possibly find for the both of you, wanting you to be able to eat again as soon as possible.

When the idea hit him, he nearly felt sick—but he knew it was his only safe option.

He’d told you about the group of mercenaries he used to work with before focusing on his Guild work, and he knew you already weren’t fond of them—and that’s likely because he’s not fond of them, either. He also knew, however, that Ran was always looking for some extra help on any of their troublesome jobs, and that would mean both you and Din could help out together. _It’s just one job_ , Din had reminded himself after he’d reached out and gotten approval from Ran. _Just one._

Din’s now setting the _Crest’s_ course for Ran’s isolated hangar. He hears you come into the cockpit, and as soon as he’s jumped into hyperspace, he turns around to face you. You’re sitting in the co-pilot’s chair curiously, looking at him with a raised brow.

“Where are we headed?” you ask. “Did you find us a job?”

Din nods, folding his hands in his lap as he thinks about how to tell you what it is. “Remember when I told you about that group of mercenaries I used to work with?”

Your eyes widen at his words. “Din…”

“I asked Ran if he had anything, and he does,” Din rushes to assure you, “and he’s going to pay us handsomely. It’s not anything crazy, just trying to rescue a captive group member. I don’t think he still works with the same people as before.”

You sigh, seeming at least slightly satisfied as you nod. “I hope so.” You stay silent for a moment, looking out at the blue flashes of hyperspace. Din watches the reflection of it in your eyes. “We need the money. At least we can do this together.” You look back at Din, your expression suddenly carrying new concern. “And what about the child?”

“We’ll have to lock him up as best as we can on here. I don’t think they’ll hurt it even if they see it.”

You grimace. “All right.”

Din turns back around, feeling surprised by the quick ride as he finds himself already needing to drop out of hyperspace. “Just remember, if there happens to be some of the same people, we… didn’t part on the best terms. They’ll have a lot to say about me. Especially things that aren’t true.” Din takes a moment to look back at you, seeing your sympathetic glance and feeling comforted by it. “Don’t try to argue with them about it. Just let them say it.”

You frown, and Din can see your protectiveness jumping out already. “Din, you should feel more than free to defend yourself.”

Din shakes his head, looking back to the controls as he gets the _Crest_ out of hyperspace. “It’s not worth it.” The isolated hangar’s in the distance, and Din can’t help feeling a rush of dread run through him for what awaits him there. “It doesn’t bother me. And we don’t need to be picking any unwanted fights.”

“Fine, I’ll just try my best not to shoot them if they say even so much as a _single_ syllable about—.”

“Hey, it’ll be _fine._ ” Din turns around and reaches out to take one of your hands in his. “I can step in if need be. I’m just trying to say, don’t let their words get to you.”

You nod at him, and Din gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he turns back to the controls. The coos of the child suddenly infiltrate his hearing, and he kicks into your same protective mode right away.

“Can you try to get him to sleep and lock him up?” Din asks you, not looking away from where he’s flying into the hangar. “The less they know about us, the better.”

Din hears you get up from the chair and grab the child, descending from the cockpit shortly thereafter. He silently prays to the Maker for everything to go smoothly for once as he lands the _Crest_ inside the lonely hangar. Once he’s properly shut down the ship, Din sighs, giving himself a silent encouragement before he stands up and joins you in the hull.

Before opening the hatch, Din looks over at you, seeing the strong anticipation in your expression. He reaches over to give your hand a squeeze, causing you to look over at him. “It’s just one job,” Din encourages you.

You nod at him, letting a small smile form on your lips. “Just one job.”

With that, Din opens the hatch, hoping he’s at least halfway prepared for the hell that’s about to break loose. You both descend it together, staying close to each other’s side. Ran awaits you further inside the hangar, looking much older and out of shape than Din remembers him.

“Mando!” Ran exclaims as he approaches, a half of a sly smile showing on his lips as he walks up to the two of you. “Is that you under that bucket?”

He reaches his hand out to shake Din’s. “Ran,” he remarks, returning the overexaggerated gesture. Din can see you watching suspiciously from the side. He gestures with his helmet towards you, offering him your name. “She’s the one I told you about.”

Ran also shakes her hand, being a bit more delicate that time. He then turns back to Din. “I didn’t really know if I’d ever see you in these parts again. Good to see you.” Ran pats Din on the shoulder, making him tense up underneath the armor as Ran starts to guide the two of you around. “You know, to be honest, I was a little surprised when you reached out to me. Y’know, ‘cause I… I hear things.”

Din sees you look over at him sharply, as if a red flag’s been waved in your conscious. He gives you a reassuring nod, telling you that he’ll take care of it.

“Like, maybe things between you and the Guild aren’t workin’ out.” Ran finishes with a raise of his brows, stopping to face Din and receive some kind of response. Din notices you staying closer to his side than usual in public.

“I’ll be fine,” Din assures him.

Ran lets out a short sigh. “Okay. Well, you know the policy… no questions. And you…” he pauses, once again taking a hold of Din’s shoulder as he continues to walk around, “you’re welcome back here anytime.”

“Yeah? Good.” _Because I might need to come back and kick your ass if you test us today._

As you walk through the hangar, Ran reminds you of the job: going to bail out one of his guys who’d gotten themselves caught by a competitor. It doesn’t sound like anything too dangerous, at least to Din, and you don’t give him any warning looks. Rather, he sees the same look on your face that he’d seen back in the village, when you were getting ready to fight the raiders. Knowing you’re prepared instantly relaxes Din even more, and he tunes back in to what Ran’s saying. “It’s a five person job, I got four. You got two.” Ran looks you up and down, much to Din’s distaste.

“She’s coming.” Din’s words are gruff and stern, indicating that he doesn’t have room for negotiation on the matter.

Ran shrugs. “Sure. All I need is the ride… and you brought it.” Ran then looks to the _Crest_ , and both of your gazes follow it. Thinking of the child, Din instantly refutes the idea.

“The ship wasn’t part of the deal,” he reminds him shortly.

“Well, the _Crest_ is the only reason I let you back in here.” Ran’s confession is said in a matter-of-fact tone, and Din can feel you bristle with sudden anger beside him. He gives you a look to calm you, reminding you that he’s got it under control. When he looks back to Ran, he makes his own frustration evident, tilting his head at him. Ran raises an eyebrow. “What’s the look?” He then walks up to Din, stopping when he reaches his right pauldron and continuing to stare him down. “Is that gratitude?” Seeing Din shake his helmet in further frustration, Ran laughs, starting to walk away. “Uh huh, I think it is.”

Before Din follows him, he feels you catch his arm, causing him to look back at you. You’re practically fuming, and just by the harshness of your grip, he can sense your growing anger. “Hold me back, Din, because I’m already prepared to do some fighting.”

Din chuckles, grabbing your wrist gently to remove your hand from his arm. “It’s all show for them. Remember, it’s just one job.” He’s quick to give your hand a squeeze before following after Ran, causing you to do the same.

When you catch up to Ran again, he’s leading you over to someone who’s busy packing. Their attire is ready for an overload of weapons, their figure not looking as intimidating as it should yet also looking prepared to serve its purpose. Ran calls out to him, “Hey, Mayfeld.”

The man turns around. “Yeah?”

“This is Mando,” Ran introduces Din, “the guy I was tellin’ you about. We used to do jobs way back when.” He then gestures to you. “And that’s his…” he hesitates, looking between the two of you with a suspicious eye.

“Partner,” you say. Din can hear a rough edge to your tone that he’s sure the others won’t notice.

“Ah, she _does_ speak,” Ran jokes. Din gives you a look that warns you not to say anything, and much to his pleasure, you bite your lip and remain silent.

“This is the guy?” Mayfeld asks, ignoring you for the moment as he walks closer to where you’re all standing.

“Yeah, we were all young,” Ran explains, “tryin’ to make a name for ourselves.” Ran laughs, shaking his head as he continues to reflect. “Yeah, but runnin’ with a Mandalorian, that was… that brought us some reputation.”

Din rolls his eyes underneath the helmet, and he sees you wanting to do the same thing beside him.

“Oh, yeah?” Mayfeld remarks, looking solely at Din as he speaks. “What did he get out of it?”

Ran chuckles again as he looks up at Din. “I asked him that one time. You remember what you said, Mando?”

Din says nothing, looking down at Ran in a stone-cold manner. Of course he remembers what he said—because it was true, and if anyone wanted to test his patience further today, then he’d be more than willing to prove it.

“Target practice,” Ran finally answers for Din, laughing as Mayfeld lifts his hands in fake surrender. “ _Target practice!_ ”

“Target practice? Really?” Din hears you whisper to him, and he holds back a chuckle as he spots the smile of amusement on your face.

“We did some crazy stuff, didn’t we?” Ran asks Din, looking up at him with a mischievous expression.

Din cringes at the memories. He wants, more than anything, to forget them. “That was a long time ago,” Din asserts, hoping no one else will know those memories—or that they’ll be able to figure out he’s changed much since then. He’s relieved that you, at least, know the truth.

“And what about her?” Mayfeld says, gesturing with his finger to you. Din sees you raise an eyebrow at him. “What can she do?”

“Whatever you need me to,” you inform him, continuing to give him one of your tough looks.

“But she stays with us,” Din insists. Mayfeld shrugs in response, obliging with both responses nonverbally.

Ran chuckles a bit more. “Well… Well I don’t go out anymore. You understand?” Din tilts his head, disliking the condescending tone he’s hearing. “So, uh, Mayfeld, he’s gonna run point on this job. If he says it, it’s like it’s comin’ from me. You good with that?”

Din hesitates, looking at Mayfeld again. He seems like a decent fighter but wears an expression Din’s seen many times before—typically within someone he never likes working with. Yet, he doesn’t have a choice, and so he looks back to Ran. “You tell me.”

Ran laughs again, and he sees you cross your arms as he does so, a sure sign that you’re fed up with his behavior. “You haven’t changed one bit,” Ran informs Din, causing him to grimace beneath the helmet.

“Yeah, well, things have changed around here,” Mayfeld bites back, causing all heads to turn to him. Din nearly scoffs at his hotheaded reaction, watching as he walks off towards the _Crest_.

“Yeah, well, Mayfeld, he’s… he’s one of the best triggermen I’ve ever seen,” Ran insists, looking at Din with another sly smile. “Formal Imperial sharpshooter.”

 _Imperial?_ Din scoffs. He knew he didn’t like this guy for a reason. Unable to hold himself back, Din lets the words fly past his lips and through his modulator. “That’s not saying much.”

Immediately, Din hears you hold back a laugh beside him, your hand covering your mouth to properly suppress it. Mayfeld whips around to face Din again, evidently irritated by the comment. “I wasn’t a stormtrooper, wiseass,” he hisses, giving Din a dirty look before he continues heading to the ship.

Ran looks up at Din with a raised brow, also seeming amused by the interaction. “Don’t take long, does it?” he comments, laughing yet again as he follows Mayfeld. You and Din do the same, but not without Din feeling you swat his arm jokingly. He looks down at you, seeing you chuckle and shake your head. He lets out a chuckle of his own in response.

“ _Razor Crest?_ ” Mayfeld soon scoffs, his gaze observing the ship crudely. “I can’t believe that thing can fly. Looks like a Canto Bight slot machine.”

Din looks over at Mayfeld with an unimpressed tilt of his helmet, thinking of at least a thousand things to quip back with but deciding he’s already said enough. The four of you approach a small group of others, and that’s where Mayfeld stops. Din keeps you close at his side, wary of the strangers you’re about to meet.

“All right, the good-lookin’ fellow there with the horns, that’s Burg,” Mayfeld starts introducing them. The stranger in question looks like a creature damned to the deepest pits of hell, his skin a fiery red and his horns protruding from a massive head. He’s carrying a large box that he drops dramatically onto the ground, locking his gaze on Din and refusing to look away as he approaches. “This may surprise you, but he’s our muscle.”

Burg walks up close to Din—uncomfortably close, he observes, and can tell by your sudden tension that you feel the same way—and studies his figure. Din has to look up at him in order to return his stare. Eventually, Burg walks all the way around both of you, evidently observing Din the most. “So, this is a Mandalorian,” Burg comments, his deep voice echoing grossly in Din’s helmet. “I thought they’d be bigger.”

Din heaves out a sigh, trying not to make it too audible. He senses you bristling beside him once again, and so he gives you a reassuring pat on your shoulder.

“Droid’s name is Zero,” Mayfeld says, pointing to a dark figure in the vicinity. Din tenses as soon as he hears the word “droid.” He wasn’t planning on having to team up with such a despicable creation. He feels his muscles tighten up even more when the droid approaches him, its bug-like eyes looking him and you up and down.

“Relax,” Din hears you whisper soothingly from beside him. It catches his attention, allowing him to look over at you and feel temporarily comforted by your reassuring gaze. “It’s on our side. It won’t hurt us.”

Din gives you a nod, trying to believe your words as he looks back up. He expects to find another individual, but sees no one, and confusion fills him. “I thought you said you had four,” Din says to Ran.

“He does.” As soon as Din hears the voice, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. A rush of dread fills him from helmet to boot, and both Din and you are turning around to face the approaching Twi’lek. Her face is full of the words Din knows she wants to yell out at him, and she toys with a knife in her fingers. “Hello, Mando,” she finally greets.

“Xi’an,” Din remarks, hoping he’s able to keep the surprise out of his tone.

Xi’an continues to approach him, seeming to forget your presence for the moment. “Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?” Xi’an questions, flipping her knife in her hand as she speaks. Once she finishes, she takes a firmer grip on the knife, lunging forward to hold it nearly against Din’s throat. The sudden action stuns you, and Din sees you reach for your blaster and point it at Xi’an’s head at the same time.

“Nice to see you too,” Din mutters.

Xi’an, however, is now looking at you, her eyes sparkling in curiosity. “Ah, what’s this?” she says, bringing her knife away from Din to circle around the barrel of your blaster. “Mando’s new bodyguard? Or, should I say, _business partner?_ ” Xi’an looks back at Din for a moment, and he gets a sickly feeling in his stomach as she raises an eyebrow at him. “You told me you weren’t taking business partners.”

“He doesn’t need any help defending himself,” you scoff, putting your blaster back in its holster. You narrow your eyes as you and Xi’an stare each other down. “Especially from you.”

Xi’an laughs, and Din nearly shudders at the squeaky sound. She comes close to you, turning around to face Din as she gestures with her knife to your face. “I like her, Mando. You found a good replacement for me.”

Din can tell you’re about to make a move on Xi’an, so he steps forward to stop you, pressing his arm across your body. “I’m confused,” Mayfeld states, looking at the three of you with a raised brow. “Is this a conversation we should leave for, or…?”

“Well, Xi’an’s been a little heartbroken since Mando left our group,” Ran explains, looking amused at the minor chaos that’s ensued.

“ _Aw_ , you gonna be okay, sweetheart?” Mayfeld teases Xi’an. You and Din both silently hum in frustration.

“Oh, I’m all business now,” Xi’an assures him, looking mischievous as she turns her head back to Din. You’re still grimacing with anger behind the reinforcement of his arm. “Learned from the best.” She points her knife at Din to refer to him, and he finds himself rolling his eyes yet again.

“All right, ya’ triangle of lovebirds,” Ran says, making Din want to vomit at the thought of Xi’an being put anywhere in between you and him. “Break it up ‘til you get on the ship. Right now, we don’t have much time.”

The group heads over to a nearby table, evidently where the plans are. Xi’an walks away, but not without forgetting to throw Din a wink, which makes him have to put more force across your body once again to keep you from doing something. “It’s all in her head,” Din assures you in a mumble, taking his arm and resting his hand against your back as he urges you to move forward. “It always has been. Don’t let her get to you.”

You just nod up at him, twisting your lips as you walk with him to join the rest of the group. They go through the plan—one that Din’s not a fan of whatsoever. Not only is the target in question imprisoned, it’s on a New Republic prison ship, one that’s going to be heavily armed and surveilled. Xi’an insists that it’s all droids on the ship, but it still doesn’t ease Din’s nerves. Not only that, but he’ll have to give up his pilot’s chair to the _droid_. At hearing this, you actually have to reach for his arm, wrapping both of yours around it to keep him from both killing the droid on the spot and suffering from the onslaught of trauma that comes with droids. Nevertheless, Ran assures Din that he’s fit for piloting the ship.

“How can you trust it?” Din asks, beginning to walk alongside Ran as he heads towards the hatch. You release his arm and follow him.

Ran scoffs, patting Din’s upper back as he answers. “You know me, Mando. I don’t trust anybody.”

Din huffs as you and him join the others in the hull of the _Crest_. Din stalls to close the hatch, looking out to see Ran standing there with one of his typical sly smiles.

“Just like the good old days, Mando,” Ran exclaims. “Eh?”

Din simply returns his stare, pressing his hand against the button to close the hatch. He closes his eyes as it rises, securing the both of you in with the strangers he wishes he could un-meet.

_It’s just one job._


	13. The Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang gets under Din and the princess’ skin and causes more problems than they bargained for.

You cross your arms as you lean against the wall of the _Razor Crest_ , glancing over at the group of strangers who are mindlessly keeping themselves entertained as the ship takes off. Your gaze only tears away from them when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you look to see Din standing there with a tilted head.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s okay in the cockpit,” he informs you, keeping his modulated voice low for the sake of privacy. “I’ll be right back. All right?”

You nod, feeling him give your shoulder a soft squeeze before he heads to the ladder. He’s gone in a quick moment, and the minute he disappears, the group begins to entertain themselves by turning to you.

“So—” Mayfeld says your name for confirmation, “—right?” He raises an eyebrow as his eyes observe you once again.

“Yep.” You refuse to give them anything else.

“Damn, loosen up, sweetheart,” Mayfeld scoffs, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s all right. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you sneer. “And don’t call me that.”

“What, you don’t like the pet names, darlin’?” Xi’an speaks up, balancing a knife on her finger as she smiles slyly to herself. “Bummer. Mando loves to use ‘em.”

You’re already fuming, but you remember what Din had warned you about before. _Stay calm. It’s not worth it._ “Well, neither one of you are Mando, so there’s no reason for me to like it when _you_ use them.” You smirk to yourself once you’ve said the words. _Well, I tried_.

“Ah, so he _is_ your boyfriend, huh?” Mayfeld’s amusement is evident as he says the words.

You narrow your eyes. “My relation to him isn’t any of your business.”

The group chuckles, and Mayfeld shakes his head as he finally looks away from you. “I like you. You’re a tough one to crack.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, glancing towards the ladder as you pray to the Maker that Din comes to take you out of your misery. Thankfully, your prayer is answered, and you see Din descending from the cockpit to join you again. Before you have a chance to walk over to him, he turns and sees Burg looking through his weaponry, and he uses the control pad on his arm to close the doors on him. He throws his fists against them in frustration, turning around to face Din aggressively. You let your hand brush over your holster, preparing yourself to pull your blaster.

Burg smirks as he reaches to open the compartment within which the child is hidden. Panic fills you, and you almost lunge forward to stop him when Din grabs his wrist. You watch as Burg practically growls at Din, approaching him much too closely as they circle around each other.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Mayfeld says, trying his best to play the peacekeeper. The two continue to stare each other down hostilely. “Okay, okay, _okay_ , I get it. I’m a little particular about my personal space, too.” He sighs, watching as they slowly start to back away from each other. “So, let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don’t have to see our faces anymore.”

“Good,” you mutter to yourself under your breath.

“What are you hiding in that compartment anyway, Mandalorian?” Burg questions lowly.

“Yeah, why so secretive, Mando?” Xi’an chimes in. You can’t hide the roll of your eyes as you flash her a dirty look. “We need to trust each other.”

Din says nothing, simply looking between the two without moving an inch. You smile to yourself, feeling proud of the way he’s composing himself. He’s doing much better than you are: you’re close to exploding with anger yourself.

“Come on, Mando,” Burg urges, giving his shoulder a rough shove. “Open the door. There’s nothing to hide.”

The act of aggression towards your partner is the last straw. You step forward, standing between Din and Burg as you grimace up at the large figure. “How about you stop worrying so much about the ship and start focusing on your attitude, you womp-rat?” Your words come out quickly and aggressively, causing a laugh to emerge from the other members of the group. Burg also can’t help chuckling at your lame attempt to intimidate him.

“ _Aw_ , look at her standing up for her man,” Mayfeld teases, exchanging an amused glance with Xi’an. “She’s a feisty one, I’m telling you.” He looks back at you, and you take one of Din’s hands secretly in your own behind your back, hoping it’ll calm you back down. “Is that… yourscrewingroom? Do you two need to step inside for a second?” He chuckles, gesturing to the rest of the group. “We wouldn’t mind, as long as you keep the noise down.”

You’re about to step forward and do much more than use your words, but Din holds you back by keeping his hand tight in yours and pulling you against him. “Leave it,” he hisses through his helmet.

“Is that even allowed?” Mayfeld continues, looking over at Xi’an. “Doesn’t he have to leave that shit on?” He gestures to Din’s armor as he speaks, still looking at the Twi’lek. “You haven’t seen him without it, have you?”

Xi’an shrugs, smirking at she continues to balance her knife. “A lady never tells.” She giggles to herself, taking the knife into her hand as she goes on. “But, you know what they say, right?” She looks at Din, mockingly uttering a “this is the way” as she crosses her arm over her chest. The group chuckles, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself.

“It’s… all right,” Din assures you in a whisper, almost choking on his own words. You wince to yourself as you sense the pain in his voice. It’s hard for him to hear them insulting the Creed, the one thing he’s been able to hold on to ever since his parents died, and not say anything—but he’s strong. You give his hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“What about you, sweetheart?” Mayfeld suddenly turns to you, a smug expression on his face. Din tenses up behind you as he hears him utter the pet name. “Have you seen his face?”

“I told you not to call me that,” you state firmly. “And no, I haven’t. He would never break his Creed.”

“I say we see what he’s hiding under there,” Burg proposes, slowly starting to approach you two again. You move in front of Din more, almost hiding him from Burg’s large figure.

“Yeah, maybe he’s a Gungan,” Mayfeld laughs. “Is that why _yousa don’t wanna show your face?_ ”

“Well, I sure wish we could hide your—.” Your retort is interrupted by Din giving your hand a firm squeeze, evidently advising you to shut your mouth.

“Come on, Mando,” Mayfeld urges, gesturing for Burg to continue approaching. “Let us see your face.”

Your free hand reaches for your blaster, but before you even have a chance to pull it and protect Din, you hear Zero call out from the cockpit.

“Dropping out of hyperspace now,” he announces, and soon the _Crest_ lurches— _violently_. Din drops your hand to instead wrap a protective arm around you, securing you against him. You hold his arm tightly with both your hands to keep yourself in his grasp. The rest of the group struggles to find grounding, trying to hold on to either the wall or keep themselves close to the floor. “Commencing final approach now.” The _Crest_ continues to zoom wildly, causing everyone to rock back and forth where they’re managing to stand. “Cloaking signal now.” The ship then flips upside down, causing everything to fall into chaos. Din brings his other arm around you, making sure you remain on top when the two of you crash to the floor. The other group members also fall around you. “Engaging coupling now.” You feel the _Crest_ finally land, and everyone takes an audible breath. You note that you’re still being held on top of Din, and he sits there for a few moments until he’s sure that nothing else will happen. You can’t stop your cheeks from warming up at the thought as he helps you to get off of him. “Coupling confirmed. We are down.”

“That useless droid didn’t even give us a proper countdown!” Xi’an rants, hissing after she speaks. You manage to stand up and offer a hand to Din, helping him back up as everyone regroups themselves.

“All right, Mando, you’re up,” Mayfeld instructs, gesturing to your means of breaking into the prison ship. Din gives them a nod, and you watch closely as he collects his necessary tools and begins the process. You stay right by his side, monitoring his moves and making sure the group doesn’t come over to bother him again. Din notices this, and he looks over at you for a moment as he chuckles.

“Hey, take a deep breath,” he instructs you in a low whisper. “I can see you’re getting protective. I’m all right. Really.”

You heave out a sigh. “How does it not bother you? They’re assholes.”

Din scoffs. “True. But I know who I am, and I know a very honest and trustworthy person who doesn’t believe any of that, so I can’t be bothered by what these people say to me.”

You manage a smile at that, wishing you could do much more to show him affection but remembering your audience as you rest your hand on his shoulder. A few moments later, Din successfully breaks in, revealing the slick floor of the prison ship. You both stand up from where you’d been kneeling, looking around the group.

“It’s me?” Mayfeld asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Always you,” Burg confirms.

Mayfeld sighs, getting his blasters ready as he ducks into the small entrance. You watch as he surveys the area, making sure the coast is clear before he flips himself down to the floor. The group looks around, seeing who’s making the next move. Xi’an is quick to dive down, leaving you, Din, and Burg in the ship. Burg smirks, and soon he jumps rather ungracefully down from the ship. You’re left with Din, and you can feel the anticipation of the mission finally hitting you full force.

“Are you ready for this?” Din asks you, his modulated voice soft as he speaks.

You give him a nod—although you know it’s not very reassuring. “Yeah. Let’s do it.” You’re about to hop down yourself when Din grabs your wrist, catching your attention again.

“Hey, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” Din assures you. “You can stay here on the ship with Zero.”

“No, I want to, Din,” you reply quickly. It’s true—you want to keep your eye on Din, and you know he wants to do the same for you. You’re afraid of what the group may do to him if he’s alone with them. He won’t admit it, but you’re sure your presence comforts him in the midst of their harassment.

Din looks at you for a long moment, still not releasing your wrist. “Promise?”

You smile as you move to squeeze his hand. “ _Promise_.”

Din nods, letting your wrist go as you finally hop down to join the others. You pull your blaster as you land, mirroring the combat-ready positions of the others. They look at you with mischievous grins, and you raise an eyebrow to question it.

“Took ya’ long enough, princess,” Mayfeld comments. Your blood runs cold for a moment upon hearing your former title, but then you realize that it’s just another pet name he’s using to piss you off. “Did you two need a quickie before the mission started?”

You chuckle to try to shake it off, rolling your eyes dramatically as you pin yourself against a nearby wall. “Yeah, real funny, guys.”

Before they can say more, Din drops down last, pulling his blaster as he steps forward to join the group. “All right, we’re on the clock,” Mayfeld announces. “When we engage those droids, they’re gonna be all over us.”

“I know the drill,” Din asserts, quickly surveying the area with his helmet.

Without another word, the group starts to head around the corner, and you and Din bring up the rear as you trot through the prison halls. The prisoners come up to the small windows of their cells, peering out as you roam free in front of them. You glance around nervously, keeping your eyes on everything to make sure you’re not taken by surprise. Din appears to be doing the same thing beside you, looking pointedly at what’s going on behind you.

“I don’t like this,” Din mutters, as if he only wants you to hear it.

“You were always paranoid,” Xi’an chimes in with a scoff. You clench your jaw to keep yourself calm.

“Is it true, Mando?” Mayfeld questions. “Were you always paranoid?” As soon as the question’s out, a prisoner bangs harshly on a door near him, and he jumps back in surprise. You struggle to keep your chuckle to yourself.

Nevertheless, everything is fairly organized and tranquil as you head to the control room, but the group soon holds up at something. You spot a small, black droid sitting in front of Burg, and he smiles as he looks down at it.

“ _Aw_ , look, it’s a little mousey,” Burg says, starting to kneel in front of it. The droid, however, starts to roll in the opposite direction. Burg begins to stand up angrily, pointing his blaster at the droid and shooting it. You widen your eyes at the sound it makes.

“Burg, what are you _doing?_ ” Mayfeld exclaims, shaking his head. “They’re gonna hear—!”

Suddenly, a large group of droids appear from around the corner, firing shots without hesitation. The group ducks for cover in the ridges of the wall, you and Din sharing one further in the back. You kneel on the floor as you try to fire shots but find the droids resistant to just about everything. You hear Din sigh above you, and you look up to see him observing the scene. “Stay here,” Din instructs you, putting his blaster back in his holster. “Don’t move or shoot, no matter what.”

You try to question him, but Din disappears back around the corner before you can. Worry settles inside of your chest as you turn back to the droids, seeing the others look around for Din’s help. When they find him to be absent, they start to act out, visibly showing their disgrace at his supposed betrayal.

“I knew it!” Mayfeld claims. “I _knew_ it—.”

He’s cut off by Din appearing around the corner behind the droids. Your heart flutters at the sight, yet clenches as you realize what he’s about to do. Din unsheathes his knife, running forward to slide and take out the first droid he sees. From there, it’s utter domination as Din fights each and every droid on his own, not needing any aid from you or the rest of the group. It takes a lot for you not to intervene, especially when you see him get forced to the floor or thrown into the walls. After he throws some punches and fire, he finishes off the last droid with a shot from their own blaster, catching his breath as he tosses it to the side.

 _Damn._ You feel as if you’ve melted on the spot. _That was… hot_.

You and the group start to lurk out from your spots, preparing to go on the run again. As the group passes by Din, who’s still standing and catching his breath as if he’s waiting for the group to challenge him. Mayfeld brings the sharp words first. “Make sure you clean up your mess,” he quips, leading the way as the group walks by. Burg hits his shoulder against Din’s roughly, causing Din to turn around and tilt his helmet with a sigh. You walk up last, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you stare up at him.

“What?” Din asks, chuckling a bit as he looks down at you.

You shake your head, trying to find coherent words. “That was…” you trail off, failing to find anything to say.

Din tilts his head at you. When he further observes your expression, you can see him realize how you’re feeling, and he shakes his head as he places his hand on your back. “Don’t do this to me right now, _cyar’ika_ ,” he mumbles in a husky tone you’ve had yet to hear, beginning to push you in the direction of the group.

They, thankfully, haven’t noticed your absence, and you soon find yourselves closing in on the control room. Upon entering, you’re filled with horror to notice that they’d been incorrect: there was a living, breathing human being in the control room, pointing a blaster at the group of you. “Stop!” he exclaims nervously, gripping his blaster with wide eyes. “J-Just stop right there!”

You can feel Din’s uneasiness from beside you as the group slowly files into the control room. Mayfeld chuckles a bit as he strolls around the room.

“You put down the blasters right now,” the guard demands, his voice still nervous as he looks in fear. You feel your heart break for him, and a pit makes itself known inside your stomach.

“Nice shoes,” Mayfeld comments, earning a chuckle from part of the group. You and Din remain silent.

“Put down you blasters,” the guard reiterates.

“Matches his belt,” Mayfeld continues. The group laughs louder at that. The two of you, however, are still nervously standing at the outskirts of the room.

“There were only supposed to be droids on this ship,” Din says, his voice revealing his stress.

“Hang on, hang on,” Mayfeld ignores Din’s words. “Let’s see here. Uh…” he pauses as he types some things into the controls, “… cell two-two-one. All right, now for our well-dressed friend.” He turns back around to face the guard, but you’re horrified to find that the guard has now pulled out his best weapon: a tracking beacon. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey. _Easy_. Easy, egghead.” Mayfeld tries to put the guard at ease, but his attempt fails as the guard continues to hold the beacon. “Put that down. _Put that down_. Come on.”

“Easy—” Din tries to say.

“Put it down _now!_ ” Mayfeld shouts.

“ _Easy!_ ” Din exclaims, easily dominating the room with his intimidatingly gruff voice and appearance. You look over at him, feeling secure at the fact that he’s started taking control of the room. “Nobody has to get hurt here. Just calm down.”

“What is that thing?” Burg asks unknowingly.

“It’s a tracking beacon,” Din explains.

“He presses that thing, we’re all done,” Mayfeld fumes. “A New Republic attack team will hone in on that signal and blow us all to hell. _Put it down!_ ”

“Are you serious?” Xi’an questions, leaning forward from where she’s helped herself into the guard’s chair.

“Yes, I’m serious,” Mayfeld snaps.

“You didn’t think we needed to know that tiny little detail?” Xi’an says sharply.

“I didn’t think we’d get to this point,” Mayfeld confesses.

“Yet here we are,” Xi’an states airily, smiling up at Mayfeld.

“Are you _questioning_ my managerial style, _Xi’an?_ ” Mayfeld growls, turning away to face Xi’an.

Xi’an laughs. “No, sir,” she insists, saluting with another giggle. You feel your skin crawl at the whole interaction—although you know you’ve already gone clammy, anyway. The situation is tense, and as the daughter of two senators, you feel sick at the thought of being an enemy of the New Republic.

“Hey, listen to me,” Din speaks next, drawing the guard’s attention to him. His modulated voice is surprisingly soothing. “Hey, hey, hey, listen to me, okay?” He takes a breath, beginning to put his blaster back in his holster. “Look.” He raises his hands as a means of peace. You do the same thing, putting your blaster away and lifting your hands. “Hey. Put it down.” Din directs his words towards Mayfeld, who’s still earnestly pointing his weapon in the guard’s direction.

“Are you crazy?” Mayfeld scoffs, narrowing his eyes at Din.

“Put it _down_ ,” Din asserts, looking back at the guard once Mayfeld finally obliges. “What’s your name?” he asks the guard softly.

The guard stammers, swallowing hard before he gets the courage to speak. “It’s Davan,” the guard finally answers.

“Davan,” Din says softly. “We’re not here for you. We’re here for a prisoner.” He pauses as Davan nods understandingly. “If you let us go about our job, you can walk away with your life.”

“No he won’t,” Mayfeld insists, raising his blaster once again. Davan also lifts his, and Din instantly pulls his back out to point at Mayfeld. You stay on the outskirts, unsure of what to do.

“You realize what you’re gonna bring down on us?” Din asks harshly, failing to hide his frustration.

“You think I care about that?” Mayfeld spits.

“We’re not killing _anybody_ ,” Din demands.

Mayfeld clenches his jaw, looking Din up and down. “Get that blaster out of my face, Mando,” he mutters.

“I can’t do that,” Din remarks, tilting his helmet as he brings his blaster closer to Mayfeld’s face.

“Get that _blaster_ out of my _face_ , Mando!” Mayfeld yells, unleashing his additional blasters in his anger. Burg reaches his blaster out towards Din, but Din puts his other arm up towards Burg, readying his flamethrower.

“Don’t,” Din growls.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of a knife flying through the air, and no later does Davan fall onto the control panels and then the floor. He remains limp afterwards.

“Would you both just _shut up?_ ” Xi’an groans, walking over to the body to retrieve her knife. You feel a coldness consume you as you run a nervous hand over your head. Din turns around to look at you, evidently trying to make sure you’re okay. Your gaze, however, doesn’t leave the dead body on the floor.

“Crazy Twi,” Mayfeld mutters. “I had it under control.”

“Yeah, looked like it,” Xi’an retorts, giggling as she stands back up and sheathes her knife.

You can see Din take a few steps towards you, but he stops and stares back at Davan as he registers a new noise. His helmet tilts as he looks down at the body, and your gaze follows it—falling onto the sight of the tracking beacon. Your eyes double in size.

“Was that thing blinking before?” Mayfeld asks, looking around at the group nervously. “Was it?”

“Zero to Mayfeld,” the droid rings back in. He goes on to inform the group that the signal’s out, and there’s only fifteen minutes until you’re blown to pieces. You swallow back your panic, sharing a nervous glance with Din.

“We only need five,” Xi’an insists, and the group files out of the control room shortly after. You and Din linger for a moment, staring down at Davan’s body. Din rests a hand on your shoulder.

“We did what we could,” Din reminds you, giving you an encouraging nod before leading you in the same direction the group’s gone.

On your way to the cell, two new droids pop out to try to stop you, causing the group to hold up. Burg steps forward and reaches for one, picking it up and throwing it at the other one. They collide into massive flames, ruining any threat of destruction. You take a deep breath, continuing to follow the group as they move around the flames.

Soon, you’ve come upon the cell, and you watch as Mayfeld inserts Zero’s connective device to the lock. “Z, open it up,” he commands, and a few moments later, the cell door rises. You widen your eyes as you see another Twi’lek sitting inside, and he looks up to observe you all slowly.

Din steps forward, looking utterly shocked. “Qin,” he breathes, his voice coated in disbelief.

Qin laughs gruffly, observing Din with dark eyes. “Funny,” he says lowly. “The man who left me behind is now my savior.”

Din walks up to meet him, and Qin gets uncomfortably close to him. Suddenly, your arm is seized by Mayfeld’s firm grasp, and Burg shoves Din inside the cell. You cry out in protest as Mayfeld closes the cell, leaving Din locked inside. You’re about to fight your way out of his grasp when Burg turns to you, kicking you roughly to the ground as Mayfeld snags your blaster out of your holster. The air’s knocked out of you, and all you can do is look up at the group surrounding you, feeling stunned. Mayfeld keeps your arms pinned to the ground as Burg takes control of your legs.

“What are you doing?” you question fiercely as soon as you get your breath back. “He’s done nothing but help you! He saved your asses back there!” When they solely look down at you with sly grins, you feel your anger reach its peak. “ _Let him go!_ ”

“You thought we wouldn’t find out, huh?” Mayfeld scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you. Your blood runs cold. “I, personally, thought it’d be an honor to know that we had a _real_ princess with us.”

Your face falls immediately. Somehow, they’d discovered your past identity—which was bad news for everybody.

“We heard you’re worth a lot,” Mayfeld continues. “Thought we’d get a bonus once Mando was taken care of.” Mayfeld then looks up at the cell, where Din’s evidently watching through its small windows. “What do you think, Mando? Sound like a plan?”

“Let. Her. Go.” Din says each word with such hostility that you feel a shiver run down your spine. You’ve never heard him so angry before. “She has nothing to do with our past. _Nothing_.”

“You tried to take my brother away from me!” Xi’an exclaims, gesturing to Qin beside her. “It’s only fair that you taste some of that for yourself!”

“Don’t _touch her!_ ” Din yells, and your heart breaks at the sound of his sheer anger and panic.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Xi’an assures him, making her way over to you. She kneels beside you, hovering over your face with one of those disgusting grins. “After this, the only people touching her will be whoever they decide to sell her to.”

The group laughs, and you hear violent banging coming from the cell door. Xi’an takes one of her knives in her hands, bringing it to your face. You try to turn away and fight yourself out, but with your limbs being restricted, it’s impossible. Xi’an gets the tip of the knife just inside the skin of the right side of your forehead, and you can’t help letting out a cry of pain as she trails it down until it reaches your left cheek. You gasp as she lifts the knife from your face, licking her fangs as she sheathes it back on her belt. There’s more violent banging coming from within the cell, but you barely hear it as your head becomes lighter at the presence of blood trickling down your face.

It’s all fuzzy as they cuff you and Burg takes you aggressively by the arm, beginning to lead you away from the cell. Before you’re too far out of earshot, you manage to mumble barely cohesive words to Din. “ _Cyar’ika_ ,” you say weakly, seeing his helmet through the windows of the cell. “I’m sorry.”

Din’s hand reaches up to the window, but he says nothing—and you figure that he _can’t_. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he speaks, it may reveal the intense emotion he’s feeling, and he can’t appear as vulnerable to the bastards who have you. As you disappear around the corner, you hear Xi’an exclaim a “You deserve this!” to Din, and Burg continues to practically drag you with them through the prison.

Your mind tries to wander through its lightheaded state, but all you can keep thinking of is the man who’s locked inside the cell. You figure that if you had stayed on the ship, none of this would’ve happened, and your regret begins to overpower you. You’re not sure if you’ll ever see Din again, and the simple thought of it brings a single tear that falls over the blood as they bring you closer and closer to your fate.


	14. Domination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din seeks his revenge for the treatment of the princess.

Din gives the wall another punch as he contemplates what to do. The anger that’s pumping through his veins is making him dangerous; he can’t stop the flood of violent thoughts he’s experiencing. He’s tried to push those away over the years, especially as he’s tried to change into a better person, but seeing them hurt you like that—hearing them threaten to take you away from him—was enough to snap him back to that bloodthirsty state.

He needs a plan.

It forms quickly once he hears another prison droid approaching. He refuses to let this group get away with everything they’ve done to you. It was one thing for them to harass and hurt him, but for them to do that to _you_ in order to hurt him was the final blow. He’s not going to let them get off this prison ship—except for the person who’ll get you the money you need to keep yourself healthy.

Din creeps closer to the windows of the cell, looking out to see the prison guard strolling by. He narrows his eyes underneath the helmet, waiting until it passes by his cell completely to reach his arm out and captivate the droid with his grapple hook. Turning his back against the door and giving a large pull, Din soon hears the droid hit the cell door hard, and Din keeps pulling until the droid reaches to free himself. He dodges a blaster shot that ricochets off the cell walls, taking a firm hold on its arm and pulling until it rips off its body. Oil spills everywhere, but Din doesn’t mind it as he takes the blaster from the droid’s limp arm and shoots its head. He pushes the droid’s other arm out of the window, leaning down to grab the one he’s pulled off and insert its finger into the door’s lock. After a few turns, it successfully unlocks, and Din feels a wave of adrenaline hit him as he launches the rest of his plan into action and trots his way out of the cell.

Meanwhile, you’re still being dragged along with the group, who’s trying to find the _Razor Crest_ again and get away quickly. Your negativity has made you silent, plaguing you with torturous thoughts of the man left behind in the cell, but a sudden call from Zero changes your demeanor entirely. “Zero to Mayfeld,” its robotic voice says over the commlink. Mayfeld stops the group, holding his arms out as he prepares to radio in. “You have a potential problem.”

“What?” Mayfeld questions impatiently, looking around at the rest of the group. Your heart begins to pound harder in your chest.

“He has escaped,” Zero informs you.

Your smile is inevitable at that point, and the group lets out audible expressions of distress at the news. “I _told_ you we should’ve gotten rid of him!” Xi’an exclaims at Mayfeld, hissing as she clenches her fists in frustration. They start arguing back and forth, but cut themselves off when the lights suddenly go red. Everyone falls silent, looking around suspiciously—and panicking as soon as falling doors begin to trap you right where you are.

Your smile widens. _It’s Din,_ you think to yourself. _He got to the control room_.

At the thought of Din taking control once again, you can’t help laughing. The sound catches everyone’s attention, and they turn to where you’re still secured in Burg’s arm. You lick your lips to try to find your voice, finally stating, “You guys are _so_ fucked now.”

Mayfeld approaches you, his brow creased as he grimaces at you. “Too bad you won’t be able to see it,” he says, and before you can question what he means by that, you feel him inject something into your neck that instantly puts you in complete darkness.

Back in the control room, Din’s pleased to see the panic of the group—and the added bonus of your smile and laughter at the sight. He does, however, find himself having to control his actions when he sees Mayfeld inject you with something. The sight of your limp body tumbling to the floor almost makes him cry out, but he remembers that it’s likely a temporary serum; they’d have to bring you in alive if they intended on getting any credits for you. Din swallows the urge to punch the screen and instead keeps himself focused on the plan, continuing to drop walls all over the ship.

Once he splits the group in half—clenching his jaw at the sight of your body thrown over Qin’s shoulder, now—Din prepares for a fight, looking around the control room for a possible hiding place. His gaze drifts down to the dead body of Daven that’s still on the floor, and he sees the tracking beacon still blinking wildly. It suddenly feels as if a light bulb’s gone off in his head, and he reaches down to hold the device and secure it on his belt.

Suddenly, Din hears approaching footsteps from much further down the hall. He turns around to see Burg getting closer to the control room, causing him to curse under his breath. His gaze drifts to the ceiling, where he spots the black vents concealing just enough room for him to stand on them. He pushes one out and hoists himself up, grunting to himself at the effort of having to pull not only his own weight but also his armor’s. Once inside, he secures the vent back in place, looking down and waiting for the first of many fights he’s more than willing to participate in.

Soon, the Devaronian’s walking into the control room, peering around suspiciously. Din has to hold himself back from engaging irrationally already, since all he can see is Burg’s arms holding you down as the group tortured you in front of his very eyes. His vision is practically red as he watches the creature of the same color look around with frustration.

“Where are you, you little mouse?” Burg mutters, still going in circles.

 _I can’t take it anymore_. Before he can decide on something else, Din releases his grapple hook to wrap around the Devaronian’s neck, immediately causing him to sputter for air. Din grits his teeth as he tugs as hard as he can, hoping he can at least get Burg to sleep. His plans are ruined, however, when Burg looks up, offering a sly smile before tugging down— _hard_. The movement sends Din straight down from the vents to the floor, not even able to think about getting air before Burg is reaching for his shoulders and facing him directly. Din pulls both blasters from Burg’s holsters, attempting to shoot him but ultimately getting his arms smacked away at the perfect moment. He loses his hold on the blasters and finds himself back in Burg’s grasp—with not even his whistling birds doing a single thing to stop him.

Soon, Din’s body is slammed against one of the control panels, and he lets out a short exclamation of pain. He turns quickly and throws out his flamethrower at the Devaronian, but the creature simply walks through it, smiling evilly before seizing him again. He pushes his helmet to the panel and runs it along side-to-side, causing Din to bite back any more noises of pain to prevent his attacker from gaining the satisfaction of it. He knows he has at least a few cuts on his face now, and he can feel the blood start to run down from them as he’s finished off by being thrown into a control panel across the room.

 _Damn, this guy really is all muscle_. Din groans to himself as he tries to stand back up, but Burg’s quick to pick him back up by the neck.

“Let’s see your face, _Mandalorian_ ,” Burg sneers, smiling again as he reaches for the bottom of Din’s helmet. Din fights it with all of his strength, his arms shaking in their effort to keep Burg’s from raising the helmet even an inch. He thinks up a solution quickly—something he knows his opponent isn’t so good at—and ducks down, kicking out Burg’s legs to flip the Devaronian over him. The creature hits the floor with a hard thud, and Din’s scrambling back to his feet before he has a chance to retaliate. He tosses his knife to the door’s control panel, causing it to fall on top of him. He releases a breath, watching as Burg begins to lift the door back up with a victorious expression. Din simply hits the button to his left, causing the other door to shut on him as well.

Din’s chest heaves from his efforts in the fight, and he gives it a minute before he opens the doors back up. Burg’s temporarily unconscious on the floor, half of his horns cut off from the doors. Din releases a heavy sigh before he bends down to pick up the creature’s upper half. He grunts as he drags him all the way to his empty cell, tossing him inside and securing the door closed with the piece of the droid’s arm he’d used to free himself. Din looks around, drawing his blaster as he walks forward to prepare for his next fight.

He hears her before he sees her. Xi’an’s boots have a familiar sound that makes Din’s skin crawl. He’d hated it all those years ago, and now—especially after what she’s done to you—he hates it even more. Din has to force himself to stay calm as his grip on the blaster tightens, and he looks around the corner to see Xi’an walking further down that hallway. His blood is boiling in his veins, those ruthless feelings he’d suppressed so long ago bubbling back to the surface. He keeps seeing her knife scratching your face, sending you into agony, making that noise that turns Din’s very body to ice at the horror of it. He wants to kill.

Din takes a deep breath. _No. I can’t—not anymore. Stick to the plan._

When he’s finally composed himself, Din starts to creep out from around the wall, lifting his blaster higher. Before he even has a chance to come close to Xi’an, his blaster’s suddenly knocked from his hand by one of her knives, and he looks down in shock. Knowing full and well what comes next, Din prepares himself to use his beskar to its fullest potential, blocking each one of her throws with the metal on his arms. One knife, however, manages to escape his view and settles itself gracefully into the gap between his pauldron and cuirass.

Din lets out a gasp of mixed shock with pain, cursing to himself before ripping the knife out and using it to engage with the Twi’lek. She tries to swing forward, but Din catches her easily, turning her around and securing her in his grasp as he sticks his arm out to her neck—leaving the knife hanging there eerily. They’re both breathing heavily, Xi’an’s eyes widening as her eyes stare down at the knife.

“I should do the same thing you did to her,” Din growls, edging the knife just a bit closer to her airway. “But, luckily for you, I have some sense of decency left in me.”

Xi’an scoffs as Din forces her forward, heading back to the cell that still holds Burg. “Where’d you get that from?” she questions sharply. “You didn’t seem to have one back then.”

Din reminds her of the presence of the knife near her neck as they continue walking. “Things change,” he offers gruffly, grateful when he sees the cell close in sight. He rushes over before she has the change to say anything else, forcing her inside aggressively and closing it again. He can’t help himself from speaking one more time before moving on, looking at the Twi’lek through the cell and saying the same thing she had before: “You deserve this.”

Din walks away before she can respond, finding the place where he’d dropped his blaster before and claiming it once again. He stalks through the ship, listening to the quiet beeping of the tracking beacon on his belt, which reminds him of the limited amount of time he has left. Suddenly, he hears the sound of blasters being fired—and at a rapid pace. Knowing he’s found the sharpshooter, Din jogs in that direction, keeping his back against the wall as he peeks around to find the source.

Mayfeld’s standing at the other end of the blinking hallway, his back facing Din as he draws a blaster nervously at a harmless droid. Chuckling darkly to himself, Din makes his approach, noiselessly stalking down the hall as Mayfeld stares ahead in confusion. Once he closes the distance, Din sees Mayfeld starting to turn, and so he turns with him. At this point, he’s practically breathing down his neck, and he can see Mayfeld sense his presence.

“ _No—!_ ” Mayfeld tries to get the complete sound out, but Din hits him over the head with his blaster before he has a chance. No later is the sharpshooter on the ground, unconscious. Din laughs to himself at the ease of it all. He reaches down to toss the man—remarkably lighter than Burg—over his shoulder, throwing him into the cell with the others before securing them all inside for good. Before he turns to leave for good, he hears Xi’an say something.

“You said that things change, yet here we are.” She gestures with her arms to the three of them inside the cell and Din on the outside. “Being abandoned by you yet again.”

“Unhappy with the results?” Din scoffs. “Then you should’ve kept your hands off her.” He leaves before she has a chance to add anything else, jogging as he hopes he can reach you and Qin in time. He’s soon rounding the corner by the ladder, and he slows down his pace to approach slyly as he catches Qin trying to carry both himself and you into the ship.

“ _Qin_.” Din’s voice is firm as he calls out to his old comrade, walking to stand in front of him.

Qin stops in his tracks, chuckling a bit as he steps back down from the ladder. He shakes his head, one arm still securing you to him. The sight of it alone makes Din’s skin crawl.

“You killed the others,” Qin observes lowly, his voice alone revealing his hatred for Din.

“They got what they deserved,” Din answers in a matter-of-fact tone. Silence holds between the two of them for a long moment before Qin tries to reach for a blaster with his free hand, but Din’s quicker as he draws his and points it at him. Qin’s blaster is halfway off his belt, his eyes widened at Din. “Put them down,” Din commands, gesturing to the blaster and you. “ _Gently_.”

Qin scoffs at Din’s addition, letting the blaster fall to the floor before reaching that arm around to take your body and set it down slowly onto the ground. Din walks forward with his cuffs, securing them on Qin’s wrists. “Is this necessary?” Qin seethes.

“You tell me,” Din mutters, gesturing for Qin to climb the ladder. He struggles to get up with the restraints on his wrists, but Din could care less, because now he’s finally able to focus on you. He kneels down to hold you in his arms, feeling the constriction in his chest alleviate just a bit as he secures his grip around you. Din whimpers to himself at the sight of the blood dried to your face. The scratch stretches from the right side of your face across to the left, and he knows that even bacta won’t be able to hide the scar it’ll leave behind. “I’m so sorry, _cyar’ika_ ,” he whispers to you. “I should’ve stopped them.”

Not waiting for your unconscious form to give him a response, Din puts you over his shoulder gently, climbing his way back up inside the _Crest_. He turns around and immediately sees Zero standing in front of the child’s compartment—which is now _open_. Cursing to himself, Din sets you down softly onto the floor of the _Crest_ and draws his blaster, shooting the droid dead immediately after. He crashes to the floor in a steaming heap, revealing the child who’s just believed to have done the act himself as he looks at his tiny hand with disbelief. Din chuckles, walking forward to pick up the child. He closes the part of the _Crest_ that’s opened up to the prison ship and heads to the cockpit, setting the child into the co-pilot’s chair and taking off back to the hangar.

Once the ship’s in hyperspace, Din wastes no time heading back down to the hull to take care of you. Knowing he doesn’t have enough time to care for your wounds or ease you back from sleep just yet, he decides to pick you up back up into his arms and set you down in your cot, making sure you’re comfortable before he leaves you again. When he comes back out, he sees Qin sitting on the floor, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I never thought I’d see you so soft, Mando,” Qin states, giving an amused smile as Din freezes in place. “Never took you for the type.”

“A lot of things have changed,” Din remarks.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Qin scoffs. “What about the others?”

Din holds back a sigh, gritting his teeth to collect himself before he answers. “I told you, they got what they deserved.”

“And what about yourself? You hurt a lot of us back then. You should’ve kept yourself in that cell.” Qin’s evidently just trying to provoke Din at this point, but he won’t have it—for your sake. He can’t risk giving in to such foolish tactics.

“I could’ve. And then you decided to lay hands on her.”

“So, all it took was a girl to change you, huh? I never would’ve thought. _You_ never would’ve thought.”

“It took a lot of things, Qin. But what hasn’t changed? You, and the fact I’m going to get paid and you’ll never have to see me again.” With that, Din starts to head back up to the cockpit, pausing for a brief moment to add one more thought. “And don’t you dare think about touching her.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he pulls himself up, taking his place back in the pilot’s chair.

Soon—thankfully, for Din, since all he can think about is tending to you as quickly as possible—the hangar comes back into sight. He moves to land it just as he had before, soon finding himself heading back down to the hull. He gestures for Qin to move towards him, and he does so without a word. Din reaches to take off his binders, slyly hooking the tracking beacon from earlier onto his belt. When he opens the hatch, Ran’s already waiting for them at the bottom, looking confused when it’s just Din and Ran walking out.

“What about the others?” Ran questions after Din provides no information on the subject.

“No questions asked,” Din answers, smiling slyly underneath his helmet. “That’s the policy, right?”

Ran sighs, nodding at Din slowly. “Yup, that’s the policy.” He reaches into his pocket and grabs a bag of credits, tossing it to Din. He accepts it without another word, heading back up the hatch. Before securing the door closed, Din hesitates, looking at Ran once more.

“Just like the old days,” Din says, recalling Ran’s words from before. Ran doesn’t respond, and Din feels amusement fill him as he closes the hatch. He hurries back to the cockpit to take off, wanting to get situated and finally focus on you. Din’s satisfied to see three x-wings exiting hyperspace just before he’s about to enter it himself, feeling his last rush of revenge disappear before he sets the _Crest_ off and turns the controls on autopilot.

Din’s moving even more quickly now as he heads back down to you, grabbing the medical supplies on the way. He’s displeased when he kneels down beside the cot to see you still unconscious. _They must’ve given her a lot of that shit_ , he worries to himself.

Din decides to tend to your wound before forcibly waking you up, just in case it stings badly. He takes off his gloves to improve his precision and grabs the disinfectant and some gauze, beginning to wipe away the dried blood from your face. The feeling of his bare fingers brushing against your skin sets him on fire, but he contains it in his concern for you. The wound has already started to close itself—but not without leaving behind permanent damage. Din winces, fearing what you’ll think about it when you see it yourself. Din reaches for a bacta patch but fails to find any. He curses to himself, realizing that because of the lack of credits recently, he hasn’t been able to stock the medical supplies. He can only hope that you’ll heal for now without one.

The last thing he looks to is the place in your neck where Mayfeld had injected you. Din’s fingers brush over the spot lightly with a soaked piece of gauze, wiping away the small dot of blood it’d drawn, and he follows up with a cream that’ll help with the consequent bruising. Din looks over you one more time just to be sure that he hasn’t missed any wounds. Once he confirms that, he sets the used supplies aside, reaching for another piece of gauze and soaking it with a new liquid. He sets it under your nose, waiting for your eyes to widen as a gasp passes over your lips.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” Din breathes, dropping those supplies to take your upper body into his arms. “You’re safe now. It’s all right.”

Your chest heaves a few times from the sudden awakening, and your gaze looks up at Din with fear initially—which soon changes to relief. After a long moment, he sees you reach a hand up, and it lands on the side of his helmet. “Din.” Your voice is feeble in a way Din hasn’t heard it before. It splits his heart into pieces.

“I’m sorry,” Din mumbles, guilt filling him as he looks at your pained eyes and scarred face. “I—I shouldn’t have let them do that to you.”

You shake your head up at him. “You couldn’t have stopped it.” You take a breath, breaking your gaze from Din’s as you stare off somewhere beyond him. “It’s my fault.”

Din holds back a disapproving scoff. “How?”

“I should’ve stayed on the ship. You would’ve broken out, anyway, and then you wouldn’t have had to worry about me. I should’ve known they’d figure me out and use me against you. And I should’ve been able to at least _try_ to fight them off.”

Din shakes his head, helping you to sit up more as he holds your shoulders and forces you to look at him. “ _No_. Don’t say that. You being there gave me comfort I needed, and you being on the ship wouldn’t have changed anything. They’re just…” he hesitates, looking around to make sure the child hasn’t snuck in before finishing, “… _shabala_.” _Fucked-up._

You bite your lip, continuing to look at Din but showing mixed emotions in your gaze as you do so. You’re silent for a while, and Din begins to develop a strong sense of worry for you. Once you speak up, Din feels his chest constrict at your weak voice. “How does it look?”

Din swallows hard. He tries to brace himself for your reaction but is still completely honest as he responds. “You look as beautiful as ever, _cyar’ika_.”

Din sees your gaze starting to fill with tears, and he swears his heart’s fallen into the pits of his stomach. It takes you a moment to gather yourself before you ask him, “Can I see it?”

Hesitantly, Din reaches back into the medical supplies, grabbing the slice of reflective glass he keeps in there whenever he needs to clean his facial wounds. He hands it to you, hating the way your hand shakes as you accept it. You turn it towards you, and your expression immediately falls upon observing the long red scar across your face. Instantly, the tears brim your eyes until they begin to fall silently, your gaze unable to leave the glass.

“No,” your voice says in a faint whisper, the disbelief practically painted in the air around you. You choke on any other words, closing your eyes as your hand falls to the cot. It takes everything in Din not to pull you close to himself, but he can tell you need to say more, and so he gives you the time you need. He watches as your gaze shifts back to him. “This was the last thing I had left of my mother, Din: my face. And they took that away from me.” You stifle a sob as you speak, your teeth sinking into your lip once again.

Din shakes his head, reaching up one of his bare hands to touch your cheek. He swipes a thumb over one of your tears as you lean into his touch, your eyes falling closed as you eagerly seek his comfort. “No, they didn’t take it away. I was being truthful before, _cyar’ika_. You’re as beautiful as ever.” He pauses, trying to think of the right words to say. “And your mother would be very proud to see you bear a scar with such resilience. It’s badass.”

You chuckle ever so softly at that, reopening your eyes to look into Din’s again. He feels his heart start to beat normally when the light starts returning to your gaze. You stay silent for a moment, placing a hand over the one that’s still on your cheek. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

Din smiles underneath the helmet, wishing for one of the first times ever that he could take it off and let you see it. “I always have. That and so much more.” Din starts to lean closer to you, seeing your confusion as he approaches. “You’ve changed me. Everyone kept saying it. You’ve made me a better person. And that’s why…” Din pauses, resting his forehead against yours before he finishes, “… you are _everything_ to me.”

Din sees your eyes water again, soon falling shut as you absorb his intimate touch. He waits a few moments, wondering if you know the depth of his gesture. When you still don’t speak, he goes on.

“A Keldabe kiss, _kov’nyn_ ,” Din explains, his voice a hushed whisper, “is when two foreheads touch.”

Your eyes shoot back open at that, and Din sees them fill with intense affection— _love? No_ , he chastises himself, _that’s not it. She can admire me, but love me? Me? Not likely._ His thoughts of self-doubt are interrupted by your hands resting onto both sides of his helmet, securing Din’s head in place. You look at him through your lashes, your lips beginning to curl up into a small smile. “It’s perfect,” your soft voice assures him, sending a pleasant rush through Din like nothing else has before. Din’s left speechless as your hands glide from the helmet down along his shoulders, moving in a slow yet affectionate manner. He feels chills rise up in his spine at your touch, but he freezes when you suddenly stop, your eyes widening as you pull your left hand back to your face. Your forehead leaves his as you stare at your hand, showing it to Din. It’s coated in blood. “What happened, Din?”

Din looks down at his right shoulder, seeing the place where Xi’an had stabbed him earlier. He’d forgotten all about that in his worry for you. “Oh. That’s… nothing.”

You look back up at him and scoff. “ _Nothing?_ Din, please, there’s no need for this. Let’s just get it cleaned up.”

Din nods, feeling nervous when he sees your eyes scanning him for any other wounds. Your gaze stops at the fabric that covers his neck, and he watches as you observe it closely. Your finger wipes over it, and it comes back with a few random droplets of blood. You look at him with strong concern.

“Is this coming from your face?” Your tone is full of worry.

Din shrugs. “It might be. I can take care of that later.”

You just grimace, reaching for the medical supplies he’d been using earlier and turning your attention to his shoulder. Din grits his teeth as you run the disinfectant-soaked gauze over the open wound, easily accepting the free hand you’ve offered out to him. He squeezes it just a bit tighter than usual as you finish cleaning the wound, soon searching for the bacta patches Din had been looking for earlier.

“They’re gone,” he informs you lowly. “I’ve got to buy more on our next supply run.”

You give him a nod, leaning back to face him again. “We can do that. For now, you need to take care of whatever’s bleeding on your face. I’ll head out.” You start sliding off the cot, but Din stops you, moving in autopilot as he stares down at your face. You look up at him, your eyes full of such gentleness and concern that Din’s certain he’ll melt. There’s three words stuck to his chest, refusing to make their way up into his mouth, and so he’s just left to stare like a mindless fool.

When he does come up with something, it’s not what he wants to say. “Be careful.”

You offer him a chuckle, taking his hand and kissing his palm. “I don’t think there’s much to worry about out here, Din.” You give his hand a squeeze and stand up, leaving him alone in the room. He sighs as he reaches his hands up to the helmet, sliding it off and setting it aside. Before he even assesses the damage, he pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, feeling a new kind of tugging at his heart.

The truth is, he doesn’t just want to touch foreheads with you. He wants to kiss you. Feel you. Show how much he—he—now he can’t even think the words. When he saw you getting dragged away, something had snapped within him, and he’d truly realized that he can’t live without you. It’s something he wants to not only tell you, but _show_ you. And because of his Creed, he can’t. The only way he can keep you and keep himself from breaking the Creed is by getting you to promise yourself to be his forever— _Mandalorian marriage_.

And how the hell is he going to manage that?


	15. The Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din tends to and comforts the princess in the aftermath of all their recent action.

Your fingertips trace over the long scar that now runs across your face as you look into the shard of broken glass. Din’s words from before keep ringing in your head, trying to remind you that it hasn’t changed anything, that your mother would be proud of it, that you’re still beautiful—and _Maker_ does the idea of him thinking that hit your very heart—but all you see is the destruction of one of the last things you’ve been able to take pride in. The Empire had taken everything from you, and now the rest of the galaxy is doing the same.

Everyone but Din.

Almost as soon as you think of him, you hear his modulated voice against your eardrums. “ _Cyar’ika_ , please,” he says softly, and you look over to see him sitting beside you on the cot and taking the glass from your hand. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Your shoulders fall in shame as you’ve been caught in the act. “I know, I’m sorry—.”

“Don’t apologize,” Din assures you, grabbing one of your hands and entwining his gloved fingers with yours. “You have every right to be upset.” He lets out a soft breath, his thumb running over the back of your hand. The gesture sends a pleasant shiver through you. “I just wish you could see yourself the way I do. You’re… _beautiful_.”

Your heart softens at his words, and you find yourself closing your eyes as you rest your head against his pauldron. _I wish I could_ see _you,_ your mind thinks, but you know better than to say it out loud; you would _never_ want to pressure him into breaking his Creed. Din stalls for a moment, lifting your head briefly with his hand as he reaches to take the pauldron off. He then invites you to put your head back down, where it now meets the comfort of his softer clothing. “Maybe if you say it more, I’ll start to believe you.”

You envision Din smiling underneath the helmet, and the cool metal soon meets the side of your head. “I’ll say it as many times as you need me to, _cyar’ika_.”

You bite back a smile, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Can you say it again?”

Din lifts his helmet from your head and drops your hand, taking your face between his gloved hands and softly touching his forehead against yours. For a moment, you swear you can see the outline of the eyes behind his visor, but you believe your mind’s just fooling you. “ _Gar mesh'la_.”

You furrow your brow at him. “Is that what it is in Mando’a? I thought you didn’t know much.”

Din keeps his head against yours, running his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’ve… been learning. When I can’t sleep.” He takes one hand off your face and looks away for a moment, soon pulling a small book off his belt. He shows it to you, and you nearly melt when you realize it’s a book all about how to speak Mando’a. “I remember you saying it was beautiful the first time you heard it. And, your eyes—lit up.” Din’s stumbling a bit on his words, and you know it’s simply because he’s still trying to get used to being so vulnerable and affectionate. The effort makes a smile grow on your lips. “I thought _you_ were the beautiful one then, but I didn’t think to say anything, and then I wanted to learn it in Mando’a, so the next time we stopped at a market—I found this.” The rest of his story’s rushed out, as if he’s been afraid to say each word.

You take the book delicately into your hand, bringing his head back to yours immediately after. “Din Djarin, you’re one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever known.”

You hear his modulated breath hitch, as if the words have struck him directly in the heart. His body freezes, but he continues to speak. “Anything for you. It’s what you deserve after all you’ve given up for me. And the kid.” He sighs, still keeping his helmet against your head. “I just wish I could do more.”

You raise an eyebrow. “More? Din, you’re already doing _so_ much for—.”

“I have scars too.” Din cuts you off as if he didn’t even hear your words. “This helmet doesn’t protect me from everything. I… want to share them with you.”

“But you can’t,” you finish the idea for him. You give him a reassuring smile, placing the Mando’a book on the cot as you hold the helmet between your hands. “It’s okay, Din. I don’t need to see you to validate the way I feel about you.”

Din places his hands over yours, taking them into his grasp as he holds them in the space between the two of you. He lightly gives them a squeeze, but his visor continues to stare down at you intently. “I just…” Din trails off, and you hear him swallow hard before he goes on, “… I want to kiss you, _cyar’ika_.”

You give his hands a squeeze. “We are kissing. Right now.”

Din lets out a breathy chuckle. “I mean, a _real_ one. My lips, against your lips…” Din’s voice has now reached a hushed whisper, and you feel a surge of affection and desire run through you. He releases your hands to take off his gloves, placing the rough skin onto the sides of your face. “My skin, against your skin.” He trails his fingertips along your cheekbones, and then your jaw, and then down the sides of your neck. You suck in a breath, feeling as if your skin’s on fire. “Just _me_ , against _you_ , _with_ you… that’s what I want.” His modulated voice sounds as if it’s stuck in a trance, and his hands return to your face as you wallow in the tense silence.

Swallowing hard, you finally find words with which to reply. “But this _is_ you, Din.” You gesture to his helmet. “I know how much this means to you. I’m willing to give up those things if you are, too.”

Din’s silent for a long moment, and you almost wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. Your stress subsides, however, when he pulls you into his chest and heaves out words set with intense emotion. “I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve you, _cyar’ika_.” You’re about to respond with an assurance that he’s deserved affection for much longer than even you’ve been providing it, but he pulls you off him and begins to stand before you have the chance to, his hand taking the Mando’a book and hooking it back onto his belt. “Keep resting. I’m going to land somewhere quickly to pick up some food and medical supplies. Hopefully, we can get a bacta patch on you, and it might help with the scarring.”

You nod. “All right. I’ll get my stuff ready.”

Din shakes his head. “I don’t think you understood me correctly. I’d like you to stay on the ship.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And let you go into the market alone? Din, I—.”

“I’ll be fine. You need to _rest_. You haven’t had a good meal in you in much too long, and you’re still recovering.”

You grimace up at him. “They didn’t hurt me that badly, Din.”

“Still.”

Knowing he’s not going to budge on the matter, you sigh, laying back on the cot. “Fine. But if you’re not back quickly, I’m going after you.”

Din starts walking out, but not without answering you. “Quick is my goal, _cyare_.”

Your cheeks heat up at the word he calls you, and you shake your head as you rest your head onto the pillow. The blanket you and Din share is beside you, and you use it to cover your body as you imagine Din’s laying next to you. You’re not even close to falling asleep, though, when you hear small footsteps pattering towards you, and you open your eyes to see the child approaching. Its ears rise at the sight of you, and it coos as it stops beside your cot.

“You want a nap too, kiddo?” you ask, opening your arms to invite it towards you. The child lets out another happy coo as it climbs onto the cot, coming over and letting you hold it against your chest. Your eyes close again as you softly stroke the child’s hairy head, and the last thing you feel before you drift off is the _Razor Crest_ making its descent onto whatever planet Din’s chosen.

When you awaken again, it’s with a start. The sound of something hitting the side of the ship jolts you out of your nap, and you sit up instantly. The child immediately stirs beside you, looking up at you with its big and concerned eyes. You coo to it as you pick it up in your arms, looking around nervously.

“Din?” you call out, wondering if he’s fixing something inside the ship. When you get no response, your heart falls into your stomach—especially once the sound continues.

Throwing the blanket off you, you stand up from the cot, slipping your boots back on and putting your blaster back inside your holster before hurrying to the hull. You open the child’s compartment and set it down, watching as its ears start to fall in worry. You shake your head, giving it a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to check it out—it’s probably just the wind. You stay _right_ here, all right? I’ll be back soon.” When the child’s ears start to rise again at that, you give its head a kiss, and then you secure it inside the compartment.

You turn around with a sigh, suddenly shivering as you notice the much colder temperature of the _Crest_. The sound continues, along with some muffled voices, and you realize someone—or some people—are trying to get inside. You hurry over to the wall, kneeling down and pressing your ear against it to see if you can hear anything.

“… is a _Razor Crest_ , right?” one of the voices says gruffly.

“Yeah. But they must not be inside.” You nearly fall backwards when the knocking sounds again, startling you. “Damn it. We’ll have to look around and see—.”

“No, you kriffing idiot!” the first one sneers. “We _wait_. If we leave, they could be right around the corner ready to leave. We hide, and then—when the Mandalorian gets back—we attack.”

Your eyes widen. _No._ You stand back up and look around for another weapon, and seeing that Din didn’t take the pulse rifle with him, you select that. Din had taught you how to use it during one of your many planet stops, showing you how to reload charges and differentiate between disintegrating and electrocuting. You take the weapon in your hands, flipping it a few times to warm yourself up. You then step towards the closed hatch, taking a deep breath and beginning to open it.

Blood roars in your ears as you watch it descend slowly, and you have to squint and blink a few times as you see nothing but white beyond you. You realize that you’ve landed on a snow planet, which is what made the _Crest_ so much colder. You pray to the Maker that it won’t complicate your situation as you start to walk down the ramp, holding the pulse rifle tightly in your grasp.

Suddenly, before you’ve made it even halfway down, you see an arm reach out and grab the pulse rifle. It pulls the rifle drastically to the right, causing both you and the rifle to get flung off the ramp and onto the snow-covered ground. You’re thankful for the cushion of the snow, but still wince at the unwanted contact and the coldness that soaks your clothes. Quickly, you rise and hold tight to the rifle, seeing your attacker—another human—coming towards you. You dodge their blow and swing the rifle at them, knocking them back a few steps as you make contact with their stomach. They fire a blaster shot and miss as you duck just in time, retaliating with a quick shock from the rifle. It sends them to the snow, completely unmoving.

You whip around, remembering that you’d heard multiple voices, and immediately get forced to the ground. The rifle slips from your hands and lands a few feet away, and you don’t have any time to grab it before your other attacker picks you up by the throat. You clench your jaw, trying not to sputter as your lungs scream for air. You kick him where it _really_ hurts, causing him to drop you and fall back a few steps. You land on the ground but get back up quickly, soon swinging at the man with both your fists. He catches both of them, but before he can twist them painfully, you fall back and push his legs out from under him, flipping him over you as he releases your hands in shock. You roll backwards so that you’re hovering over him, pulling your blaster out and pressing it against his head. Your free hand secures his arms above his head.

“Who are you?” you demand behind gritted teeth.

The man chuckles a bit. “I didn’t know the Mandalorian was still collecting bounties,” he mutters.

You press the blaster harder against his head, causing him to wince in pain. “I’m no bounty, and I believe I asked you a question, you bantha fodder!”

“I owe you nothing,” he spits back. “Nothing I say will change the fact that you and that buckethead will be hunted by others like us as long as you live.”

Upon hearing his insult for Din, you waste no more time flexing your finger on the trigger, standing up and sliding your blaster back into your holster. You walk over to where the pulse rifle’s still laying in the snow, your teeth beginning to chatter as your now-wet clothes react poorly to the planet’s chilling breeze. You hurry back inside the ship, and you’re about to secure the hatch closed again when you hear the familiar modulated voice calling out to you.

Din exclaims your name, his concern evident at the sight of the hunters’ dead bodies. You see him approaching with a bag full of supplies, and he quickens his steps as he comes to meet you in the hull. “What the hell happened?”

“T-Those h-hunters,” you try to say, but your teeth won’t stop chattering from the cold. “They were t-trying to get in, a-and t-then they were going to s-surprise at-t-tack you.”

Din tilts his head at you, his hand pressing against the button to lift the hatch as he sets the bag on the ground. “You look freezing,” he observes, his gloved hands resting on your shoulders. “Are you all right?”

You give him a nod. “They didn’t h-hurt me.”

“You got them both easily, huh?”

You chuckle and give another nod.

“‘Atta girl.” You beam at his praise, watching as he removes his gloves again to feel the texture of your shirt. “Oh, _cyar’ika_ , your clothes are soaked.” You shrug, your teeth still chattering. Din’s discontent is evident, and he bends down to the bag to pull out a bundle of stacked cloth. “It’s a good thing I got you some more clothes.”

Your heart practically bursts as you gingerly take the bundle into your hands, looking up at him with a grateful smile. “Din, you d-didn’t have t-to.”

“Yes, I did. I told you we’d get you new pants a millennia ago. It’s perfect timing.” You keep smiling as you reach for one of his hands, kissing his palm as a means of thanks. His skin feels warm against your icy lips, and you savor the touch before you release his hand again. Din takes a breath as if your action’s made the air escape his lungs. “I… am going to get us off this planet, and once we’re in hyperspace, I’ll come help make you warm. You can change while I’m gone. All right?”

You offer a nod, heading in the direction of your shared compartment as you place the warm clothes onto the cot. You close the door and sigh, beginning to exchange your soaked clothes for the new ones Din’s bought you. Your eyes observe the new pieces with admiration: stretchy black pants that fit just right to your body, a new white long-sleeve that’s thick yet still gives way for any movements you have to make, and a tan vest with many different hidden compartments for any equipment you may need. You’re surprised at how well everything fits—as if Din somehow memorized your size. The thought makes your heart warm up.

You’ve just finished taking everything in when you hear Din’s knock on the compartment door. You call him in, and he opens the door, balancing a bowl of something in his hand and stalling when he spots you. He’s speechless for a moment as he takes the new look in, causing you to look down as your cheeks heat up. “Wow,” his modulated voice finally breathes. “That… fits you. Very well.”

“Thank you,” you remark, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he keeps approaching. You sit down on the cot as Din sets the bowl down and takes his armor off piece-by-piece, and soon he’s joining you. He pulls you flush against his body, inviting you to rest your head on his chest as he covers the both of you with a blanket. “So, it was an easy trip?”

“Yes.” Din wraps both of his arms around you, making sure he’s transferring all the body heat he has to you. “I got everything we needed. Speaking of which…” Din trails off, removing one arm temporarily to reach over and grab the bowl. He hands it to you, and you look inside to see steaming soup. You smile, accepting it as you start spooning it into your mouth. Din wraps his arm back around you. “Now, you can have some real food in you.”

You look up at his helmet, waiting until you swallow the first spoonful to speak again. “Thank you so much, Din.”

Din simply nods, continuing to watch as you consume the rest of the soup—quickly. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until the bowl’s emptied in a matter of minutes, and Din takes it for you and sets it back down on the floor. You cuddle yourself back into his chest, feeling more secure than ever with such a full stomach and such a warm embrace from the man you love.

Your eyes fly wide open. _Love?_ The thought scares you, but deep down inside, you know your feelings are true. You’ve fallen _hard_ for him. But you’re afraid of scaring him with such strong affection, so you swallow the urge to tell him immediately. Instead, your mind wanders to what the hunter had said before, and you feel your happiness begin to lull away.

“Din?” Your voice comes out weaker than you want it to.

“Yeah?” Din doesn’t bother hiding his concern.

You pause for a moment, listening to Din’s beating heart in order to keep yourself calm. “What’s next?”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh, closing your eyes as you continue resting your head on his chest. “One of the hunters said something to me before I killed him. He said nothing’s going to change the fact that we’re always going to be followed by hunters, as long as we live.” You pause for a moment, trying to read Din’s reaction without lifting your head from him. When you get nothing, you continue. “What do we do from here? Where do we go? Are we just going to float around in space forever?”

Din’s still silent, but he places one of his hands against your head, beginning to stroke it gently. “I don’t know.”

You accept his comfort and appreciate his honesty, deciding to continue elaborating on what you’re thinking. “I want to find a home, Din—with you. And the child. I want to settle down somewhere and live the lives we both never got to.”

Din holds you closer at your words. “I want that more than anything, _cyar’ika_. It should’ve been Sorgan.” He lets out a sigh. “Hopefully, one day, we can have that. I won’t stop searching the galaxy for a secure place for us until then.”

You smile to yourself, but it falters when you realize what that’ll cost him. “But would you be able to? That would mean no more jobs, or fighting, or anything you’ve always done as a Mandalorian.”

Din lets out another breath, giving your body a reassuring squeeze of his arms. “Much of my work in this armor has been fueled by vengeance, a need to release the buildup of emotions I felt from my parents’ deaths while also paying back the people who saved me. I’ve been doing that for so many years, now, and I’ve finallyfelt like I’ve achieved some sort of redemption from it with the child. And now you… _you’ve_ become my remedy. I don’t need all this anymore.” You feel him rest his helmet against your head, and your smile returns to your lips. “One day, _cyar’ika_ , we’ll find our home.”

You close your eyes again, placing a hand on his chest as you breathe him in. “Promise?”

You feel Din nod against your head. “Promise.”


	16. The Magistrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Greef Karga reaches out, the princess and Din have to figure out their next move—and end up having to comfort each other in the midst of uncertainty.

It’s about another week of floating around until something changes—very suddenly. You and Din have managed to keep each other sane with many words of comfort and a lot of time spent just holding each other, remembering that you’re not alone in this extremely intimidating time of your lives. The child, of course, is also a huge help. His ability to distract you from your troubles is almost like a talent, with his restless self practically bouncing around the _Crest_ and encouraging you to play game after game until he’s ready to sleep again.

The change comes in a form you never would’ve expected. You’ve just laid the child down to sleep when Din comes rushing down from the cockpit, and you turn quickly upon hearing his hurried and rather chaotic behavior.

“Everything okay?” you ask right away, knowing that your stoic man wouldn’t be acting in such an urgent manner if there wasn’t a good reason for it.

“You need to come see this,” Din remarks, gesturing to the cockpit. A pit makes itself known in your stomach, and you offer a nod as you follow him back up the ladder, standing beside where Din’s seated in the pilot’s chair as you look over his shoulder at the dashboard. Din hits a few buttons, and soon, a blue hologram of none other than Greef Karga starts playing. Your jaw drops—amazed by the fact he’s still alive—as you watch his message.

_My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive. You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even._

You look over at Din, seeing his helmet also looking your way. You know your expression isn’t hiding the extreme surprise and concern you feel, and you’re grateful when his gloved hand reaches for yours and secures it in his grasp. Your eyes drift back to the hologram.

_A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown. They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while._

You hold your breath at that. The thought of Din going back to face the same man who wanted the child dead—and who would gladly see both you and Din dead as well—is very unsettling to you.

_You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize._

A wince falls from your lips at that. Din gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

_So, here is my proposition: return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child, and I will have your name cleared with the Guild—for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism._

The hologram shuts off. You release the air you’ve been holding, looking worriedly in Din’s direction again. He holds your hand even tighter, but it almost feels numb as the dark thoughts swimming in your head drown you completely.

“Din…” You try to say something but can’t think of how to even begin responding to the message. With a shake of your head, you finally voice your fears. “We can’t do that. Facing that… _monster_ again? He wanted the child dead, and I’m sure he’d absolutely love to have your head on his wall and me as his—his…” You can’t get the rest of the thought out. It disgusts you too much. Instead, your mind focuses back to that first day you saw Din trying to fight off at least twenty other bounty hunters completely on his own, each one hungering to make the fatal shot. “We can’t, Din. I won’t let you go back there.”

You hear a soft sigh pass through Din’s modulator, and he suddenly turns in his chair as his gloved hands fall to your waist. He gently eases you down so that you’re straddling his lap, and his actions successfully distract you from the worries of your mind. His gloved thumbs trace circles over your hips, and you have to bite your lip to both focus on what he starts to say next and to keep yourself from making some kind of noise. “I know, _cyar’ika_ , that this sounds very dangerous. I would rather do a million things other than go back there—especially with you and the kid.”

He pauses, and you can feel his gaze burning into yours even through his visor. The recent, familiar ache makes itself known in your chest as you wish you could truly look into his eyes.

“But I _have_ to do what I can to keep you both safe. And this? This seems like the best option. I can’t keep you both out here in space forever.” He stops once again, this time to bring one of his hands to your face. You lean into his touch, feeling satisfied with the familiar texture of his glove—although you much prefer his roughened skin. “Remember what I promised you, _cyare_ : a home. This could just be our first step in getting it.”

You can’t help smiling at his words, reaching for the sides of his helmet as you rest your forehead against it. You close your eyes, absorbing the touch as if there isn’t a barrier of beskar separating the two of you from each other. When you reopen them, you look straight into his visor—and you swear that you can see the shadow of his eyes from the lights glaring off the dashboard. “I’ve told you this before, Din, but I’m going to say it again. Anywhere I am with you is my home. And that’s what scares me—because I need you _alive_. This… this is risking it.”

Din’s hand falls back to your waist, and his gloved hands start to tend to it gently again in his effort to relax you. “We won’t do it alone, _cyar’ika_. I’ve got a few people left in this galaxy that I can trust. We’ll take them along with us.”

You raise a curious eyebrow. “You do?” Your eyes widen as a realization dawns on you, and you let your smile return. “Are you talking about Cara?”

“She’s the first person who came to mind. Of course I’m going to recruit her.”

“Anyone else?”

“Remember the Ugnaught I told you about, when I first found the kid?” You nod gently, minding the fact that your forehead’s still against his helmet. “I think he’d be a great addition to our crew.”

“That’s it?” Din gives you a nod, and you let out a soft breath. “Good. No one like those other people from your past.”

“Absolutely not.” Din says the words firmly and quickly, and you feel his grip on your waist tighten a bit just at the thought of his old gang. “Don’t worry, _riduur_ , I’m not going to let anybody hurt you again.”

Your lips start curling up into another smile upon hearing the word. “That’s a new one. What’s it mean?”

Din’s smile is practically audible beneath the helmet. “Let’s just say it means you’re mine.” He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before sighing. “How about we get some rest, and then we’ll set off towards Sorgan to get Cara?”

You nod to agree, your cheeks heating up as you maneuver yourself out of your current and intimate position. You make your way to the ladder and descend from the cockpit, heading for your cot as you hear Din close behind you. As you prepare to make yourself comfortable in the cot, you see Din taking his armor off piece-by-piece as usual. You sit with the blanket huddled up in your arms, watching him as if he’s the only person in the galaxy. Din notices this, and you hear him chuckle a bit as he catches your gaze.

Your shared amusement, however, quickly turns to disbelief as you watch his now-gloveless hands. They start to ease their way up to the helmet, and your mouth falls open when you watch them stall on the sides of it, as if he’s about to take it off. He stops, his visor never leaving you—and you can practically see the confliction within him. Quickly, you discard the blanket to the side and stand in front of him, gently grabbing his wrists and bringing his arms back down to his sides. You hold both of his hands in your grasp, giving them a squeeze.

“You don’t have to do that, Din,” you assure him, your voice hushed as you speak. “We’re making it work.”

“It’s driving me crazy, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din confesses, his modulated voice sounding strained. “I _need_ to see you with my own eyes, and feel you with my own lips. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

You shake your head at him. “I can’t let you do it.”

Suddenly, as if your words have flipped a switch in him, Din drops your hands and takes a step away from you. “Why don’t you want me to? Is it because you don’t want to see me? You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid that I’m not the man you think I am, that I’m not the fantasy you’ve created inside your head.” You’re about to reassure him that it’s definitely _not_ the reason why, but he continues—and you swear you’ve never heard him talk so much or so fast all at once. “It’s okay, I already know I’m not up to those standards. I’ve seen myself. I know. I don’t blame you for choosing to keep that visual away.”

You frown heavily, stepping back up to him as you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest so that you’re still looking up at him. “Din, I love to hear your voice, but I’m going to need you to shut up for once.” You pause, waiting to see if Din fulfills your request—and, thankfully, he does. “I’m going to be honest with you: I’ve been wanting to see your face more than anything in the galaxy. I just haven’t been saying it because I don’t want to pressure you into breaking your Creed. I know how important it is to you, and I’m sorry, but I can’t let you break it for me. Maybe someday, yes, when we’re settled in our home and I know you’re ready to, I’ll let you. But we’ve got a hell of a lot ahead of us still, and I just… I can’t let you do this yet.”

You stop yourself again, waiting to see if Din responds with anything. He remains silent but, based on the way his chest’s moving beneath your chin, you can tell it’s more from his inability to speak at his emotions than the anger he’d previously been displaying. You give him an encouraging smile, deciding to continue with your own thoughts.

“And as far as your appearance goes beneath that helmet, Din…” You pause to reach a cautious hand up, tugging gently at the fabric that covers his neck. Upon hooking your finger on his collar, your finger brushes against gentle whiskers of hair on his chin, and you keep yourself from losing your breath at the simple touch. You keep going until part of the skin of his neck is available to you, and you lean up to leave the softest of kisses on the skin there. Din lets out a shaky breath in response—one that you can hear both through his modulator and straight from underneath the helmet. You pull your lips away, but stay close, letting your words float over his skin as you continue. “… I know that the man under there is the man I’ve always dreamed of and more.” _Because it’s the man I love_ , you want to say, but leave the words stuck to your chest. You’re already sure you’ve overwhelmed him enough.

Yet, you’re still taken by surprise when Din takes a hold of your thighs, lifting you so that you’re forced to latch onto him. You let out a soft squeal as Din quickly walks you both over to the cot, easing you down onto it so that you’re pinned beneath him. Your arms are still wrapped around him as his hands fall onto your face, soon trailing down ever so softly and slowly down your jaw, then your neck, then along your shoulders and down your sides. You shiver at the pleasant sensation, your lips parted in your pure awe of the sudden moment and the euphoric way it’s making you feel.

When his hands reach the seam of your shirt—your vest having been discarded during your preparations for slumber—he requests access by playing with it, and you give him a small nod before his fingers are suddenly brushing against the skin underneath. You try to bite your lip and keep the sound you want to make contained, but when his delicate touch continues to travel upwards, you can’t help it anymore. Your pleasured sigh is soft, yet holds a lot of the emotion you feel, and your eyelids flutter closed at the sensation of Din’s skin against your own. His fingers trace each of your ribs, being respectful to not go any further up, and then trace their way back down your stomach. He does this multiple times, leaving you to breathe heavier and sigh often.

Eventually, he lets his hands snake back out from under your shirt, instead reaching for one of your hands that’s been wrapped around him and holding it in both of his. You nearly gasp as you watch him slowly maneuver your hand in the space between his helmet and his face, your skin feeling his scruff once again as your hand brushes against it. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you feel his warm lips seal a kiss on your fingertips, his visor never leaving your gaze as he does so. When he drops your hand, he takes you completely into his arms in a quick movement, lying beside you as he presses his helmet against your forehead.

“I didn’t know how else I could properly thank you for your words.” It’s the first time Din’s spoken since his fit of rage, which you know was brought on by his own insecurities. “You truly mean everything to me, _riduur_.”

You feel emotional from his words and actions, and it only worsens when he gently traces his fingers across the scar on your face. His touch feels like an affectionate caress, and you close your eyes for a moment as you absorb the pure intimacy. When you reopen them, you brush your hand over the side of Din’s helmet, already beginning to envision the moment when your hand can meet his true cheek. “Everything I said is true. You’re the man of my dreams, Din Djarin.”

You can picture Din’s soft smile as he pulls your head into his chest, inviting you to join him in sleep as you have some of the most peaceful rest you’ve ever had before.

Later the next day, you’re soon landing back onto your honorary home: Sorgan. You’re relieved to see the sight of its green fields and trees again, and when Din opens the hatch of the _Crest_ , you breathe in its air with a smile on your lips. You hold the child close to your chest, looking down to see him cooing happily at the sight of the beautiful and familiar scenery.

“I know, kiddo,” you say to him, stroking one of his long ears affectionately. “I’m happy to be back, too.”

“If I had it my way, we’d be here for much longer,” Din chimes in, causing you to look over from the child to him. His helmet’s staring in your direction, and it’s tilted a bit to the side as if he’s admiring the sight before him. “But maybe after all this, we finally can.”

You give him a nod, joining him at his side as you leave the _Crest_ behind and start to walk back to the same place you’d started out in during your last trip to Sorgan. You can only hope that Cara’s there and not somewhere else—though you know she must’ve stayed on this planet. You and Din remain in peaceful silence the entire trek there, and once the familiar huts come into view, you feel your heart start to beat just a bit faster. Seeing Cara again makes you elated, but remembering why you’re there to get her makes reality settle in—and you still can’t get rid of the hatred you have for the entire idea of it.

When the three of you walk into the main hut, you see a crowd gathered around two people. You and Din share a curious glance, and upon walking further inside, you notice it’s Cara and a burly man. She’s just finished choking him with an electric kind of belt, forcing him to tap it off as she celebrates victoriously. The crowd disbands and starts to hand her credits, and you find yourself smiling at her pure badassery. Once she’s not as overwhelmed with people, you and Din step forward, and Cara turns to see you with a surprised smile.

“You’re back!” Cara exclaims, walking forward to give you a quick embrace and pat Din on the shoulder. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Neither did we,” Din confesses. “But I thought you might be looking for some work.”

Cara sighs softly, giving Din a knowing smile as she starts to pocket her credits. She lets you lead her over to a table, where you all order drinks—aside from Din—and begin to discuss the matter at hand.

“It seems like a straightforward operation,” Din explains. “They’re providing the plan and firepower. I’m the snare.” You grit your teeth at that.

“With her, and the kid?” Cara clarifies.

“That’s why I’m coming to you,” Din answers. “We’ll need some more reassurance on our side.”

“I don’t know,” Cara remarks hesitantly. “I’ve been advised to lay low. If anybody runs my chain code, I’ll be in a cell for the rest of my life.”

You grimace slightly at that, feeling concerned for her. Din tilts his helmet in the same kind of expression. “I thought you were a veteran.”

Cara’s about to speak but stops when the man she was fighting earlier tosses his own credits onto the table. She looks up at him and offers a sly smile. “Come again soon,” she says, causing him to smile just a bit before he walks off. She then turns back to you and Din with a less amused expression. “I’ve been a lot of things since. Most of them carry a life sentence. If I so much as book passage on a ship registered to the New Republic, I’m—.”

“I have a ship,” Din reminds her. “I can bring you there and back with a handsome reward. You can live free of worry.”

“I’m already free of worry,” Cara insists. “And I’m not in the mood to play soldier anymore. Especially fighting some local warlord.”

“He’s not a local warlord,” Din says lowly. “He’s Imperial.”

Cara’s entire expression changes, and she lowers her drink for a moment as she seems to be pondering Din’s words. Then, with a slight smirk, she nods slowly and raises her drink. “I’m in.”

You feel a rush of relief go through you as she sips her drink, looking over at Din to also see him glancing at you. “One down, one to go,” he says, and you force yourself to nod instead of giving in to the dark feelings that have started consuming your mind again.


	17. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess recruit Cara and Kuiil to face Karga, where Din has to face his trust issues with his old boss.

Din’s punching in the coordinates for your next planet as you and Cara sit in the hull, the child waddling around as usual. You see Cara’s eyes following him fondly, and you smile as you feel a soft twinge in your heart. You hadn’t realized how much you missed Cara’s companionship until she was a part of the crew again. It seems that she’s sensed your stare, since her gaze soon shifts from the child to you.

“You look happier,” Cara observes, and your cheeks heat up as you hold her gaze. “Let me guess: he finally told you the truth?”

You raise an eyebrow. “The truth?”

Cara rolls her eyes playfully, letting out a soft laugh. “About his feelings.”

“Oh!—yeah, he did. We both did.” You give her a soft smile as you nod earnestly.

“Good,” Cara reflects, still smiling at you. “Now I don’t have to pretend you’re not a thing when you really are. It was hard back in the village, you know.”

You shrug. “We both knew. We just didn’t want to be… I don’t know, hasty about our decision.”

Cara nods. “Understandable. I’m just happy for you two, really. You both could really use somebody.”

You bite back another smile as you look at your hands, watching them play with each other. You try to swallow back your dark thoughts at what could happen in the near future to ruin the bliss you’ve been experiencing with Din thus far. “Thank you,” you finally respond, looking back up at Cara just as you hear Din climbing down the ladder from the cockpit. Cara instantly looks at him with a raised brow, just to watch him tap something on his wrist and see the armory doors fly open.

“Pick one,” Din urges, and Cara’s eyes shine as she views the wide array of options. She reaches for a few of the weapons, tossing them in her hands and testing out their grips.

“You got options,” Cara observes, giving Din an impressed look. She then lets out a soft breath, still looking through the armory as she speaks. “Now, tell me more about this plan. You trust the contact?”

“Not particularly,” Din remarks. “He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business.”

Cara stops observing the weapons to give Din a concerned look, exhaling gently as she finally continues. “So then why are we going?”

Din sighs. “We don’t have a choice. You saw what happened on Sorgan. They’ll keep sending hunters.” Din pauses, his visor turning to you—something you know Cara hasn’t noticed. “The kid will never be safe until the Imp is dead.” Your face gets warm as you try to give him a look of comfort, knowing what his gaze at you is trying to say: _And they’ll keep coming after her, too_.

“And you’re okay with bringing him back there?” Cara says, giving Din a questioning look.

“Not really. That’s why we’re bringing you. And the Ugnaught.”

Cara looks at Din curiously. “Ugnaught?”

“He helped me. On Arvala-7, when I first got the kid. I think he can help us look after him while we execute the plan—and give us backup should the contact try to pull anything.”

Cara gives him a nod. “Good idea. We can use all the help we can get.”

You hum in agreement, reining the child back in by holding him in your arms. You look down to see his big eyes staring at you, letting out an affectionate coo as he weaves his tiny hand inside yours. You give one of his long ears a soft stroke as you smile at him. Your attachment to the child has grown steadily ever since you’d first joined Din’s crew—and now you’re certain you’ll do anything to keep him safe.

Your moment is only broken when you feel Din’s gloved hand on your back, and your head turns to see him kneeling beside you. His visor looks between you and the kid, and you give him a warm smile as you picture the admiration in his gaze. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes,” Din tells you softly. “The Ugnaught’s in the middle of nowhere, so it should be safe.”

“All right,” you remark, giving him a nod before watching him ascend back into the cockpit. Cara raises her brow at you twice in a playful manner, and you shake your head as you chuckle to yourself.

Soon, the _Crest_ lands, and Din leads the way out for you, Cara, and the child. You hold the latter in your arms tightly, appreciating his comfort as you prepare to enter the stranger’s home. You can tell Din senses your slight uneasiness, and after greeting the Ugnaught, he falls back to walk alongside you. “It’s okay,” Din reassures you softly. “We can trust him. I would’ve never gotten off this planet if it wasn’t for him.”

You give him a nod, still feeling his gaze even as you stare straight ahead again. You know that if you weren’t surrounded by so many other people, he’d find another more affectionate way to make you feel comfortable—but, instead, his presence is all you can ask for.

The Ugnaught invites the three of you to sit at a small table in his hut, letting the child sit in a seat more appropriate for his size. You stay next to him as Din sits between you and Cara, all looking at the Ugnaught expectantly. He turns to observe the child as you bite your lip, trying to understand what he’s doing. He simply looks back to Din with a curious expression.

“It hasn’t grown much,” the Ugnaught observes, his voice sounding as if he carefully articulated his thoughts well before speaking them.

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast,” Din confesses, and you look at him with a raised brow. It’s something you’ve both discussed, but not much. You wonder if Din’s thought about it more than he’s said.

“I don’t think it was engineered,” the Ugnaught answers, watching the child again. “I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks… evolved. Too ugly.” He pauses to turns to Cara instead, observing her with a keen eye. “This one, on the other hand, looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora.” He then looks at you. “And this one in the palaces of Arilia.”

Before you have a chance to demand how he knows such information about you, Din speaks first. “This is Cara Dune,” he says, gesturing to Cara. “She was a shock trooper.” He then rests a comforting hand on your thigh as he offers your name. “She’s the daughter of Arilia’s last senators.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze upon saying that, likely to comfort the thought of your parents being gone.

“You were a Dropper?” the Ugnaught asks Cara, evidently already knowing enough about you, somehow.

Cara looks to the striped tattoo on her arm before raising an eyebrow at the Ugnaught. “Did you serve?” she asks him.

“On the other side, I’m afraid,” the Ugnaught explains, finally taking a seat across from you. “But I’m proud to say that I paid out my client’s debt, and now I serve no one but myself.”

You start to smile slightly at his words, but it falters when a droid suddenly appears from outside the hut—but not just any droid. _A bounty droid? What the hell is it doing here?_ You join Din and Cara as the three of you rise quickly and draw your blasters, pointing it at the IG-11 unit. It approaches you slowly with a tray of drinks, stopping once it gets near the Ugnaught.

“Would anyone care for some tea?” its mechanical voice asks. You wrinkle your brow at its strangely domestic behavior.

“Please, lower your blasters,” the Ugnaught requests. “He will not harm you.”

“That _thing_ is programmed to kill the baby,” Din nearly growls, his grip only tightening around his blaster.

“Not anymore,” the Ugnaught insists, and you watch as IG-11 sets the tray down and starts to pour the tea into cups. Meanwhile, the Ugnaught explains the story of its reprogramming, talking about how he found it in the wake of Din’s destruction and took it back to make it of use to him. He spent days and days figuring out how to make it perform tasks that were useful for the Ugnaught’s farm. Over time, he claims, it developed a personality—and now it’s completely changed from its old bounty hunter ways. You want to believe him, but you’re not sure you can. Not after the life you’ve lived with a bounty over your head.

“Is it still a hunter?” Din questions once the Ugnaught finishes.

“No,” the Ugnaught assures him. “But it _will_ protect.”

You can tell Din’s still staring at it suspiciously, as if he believes it’ll snap at any second. You take one of his gloved hands in yours discreetly under the table, giving it a squeeze as it holds up a cup of tea. “Tea?” it asks, and Cara accepts it sheepishly. You shake your head, insisting that you’re fine.

Soon, the Ugnaught dismisses himself to go bring food to his blurrgs. You’ve heard of the species before and wonder how he’s managed to keep such feral creatures tame. In the midst of your curiosity, Din turns to you, giving your hand a small squeeze. “I’m going to go speak to him,” he tells you. “Stay here with Cara and the child. I won’t be long.”

You give him a nod, allowing him room to stand up and leave the hut. Cara turns to you as she takes a sip of her tea. “So, what do you think?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“About what?” you question.

“The Ugnaught,” Cara clarifies. “And…” she pauses, her eyes darting over to the droid who’s working somewhere farther off in the hut, “… that.”

You shrug. “Mando said he trusts the Ugnaught, so I trust him, too. But the droid?” You twist your lips before you finish. “I’m not sure.”

“Droids are all wiring,” Cara assures you. “I’m sure the droid’s going to be just fine. For me, it’s a little off-putting to hear that the Ugnaught worked for the Empire.”

You frown a bit. “As an indentured servant. I’m sure he didn’t believe in their policies.”

Cara clenches her jaw. “Still. It doesn’t change the fact that he served whoever was responsible for the destruction of my home.” She gives you a quick nod. “And yours, too.”

You feel yourself grow cold as you cross your arms, pondering her words. It’s true—the Ugnaught seems trustworthy and very wise, but you can’t deny the fact that he spent much of his life working for whoever killed your parents. The same also goes for Din—and you wonder if that’s something he’s thought about, too. You’re sure he has, knowing Din, and if he can still trust him as much as he does, then you believe you should too. “I don’t know,” you sigh, offering a shrug. “I still trust him if Mando does.”

Cara nods respectfully, turning back to her tea just as Din pops back into the hut. “Kuiil’s coming,” Din announces, a hint of optimism present in his voice. “With the blurrgs.”

Cara raises an eyebrow. “Why does he want those?”

Din shrugs, simply disappearing back outside of the hut. You and Cara rise from your seats, you taking the child back in your arms as you follow him out. You see Kuiil loading the blurrgs onto the _Crest_ , and you widen your eyes at the presence of the three large creatures. The child gives a curious coo as he observes them, one of his tiny hands stretching out towards them before he looks up at you.

“I know, kiddo,” you say, giving his fuzzy head an affectionate pet. “They look so interesting, huh? We’ll be safe from them, I think.”

You look back up and enter the _Crest_ behind Cara, trying to stay out of the way as Kuiil and Din finish loading whatever he needs. IG-11 also joins, and you’re surprised Din’s allowing a droid on the ship. Once everything’s loaded, you watch Din ascend into the cockpit as you, Cara, Kuiil, and the droid sit in the now-crowded hull, waiting to finally head back to Nevarro. You’ve set the child back in its designated carrier, now feeling strangely empty as your fingers fumble with each other. You’re not as anxious about the group of people as you are the destination, afraid of what could be waiting there for you. All you can do is pray to the Maker that it’s not a trap.

You feel the _Crest_ launch into hyperspace, and no later does Din return from the cockpit. He takes a seat at the makeshift table Cara made from the boxes on the _Crest_ , and it doesn’t take long for the two to start making some quips about who would win in an arm-wrestling battle. You’re designated as the official, watching closely as they lean their arms onto the table and clasp hands. They instantly start, and it looks to be at a fair stand-still for quite a while.

“I got you, Mando,” Cara insists, gritting her teeth as she gives a confident smirk.

“Care to double to bet?” Din asks between grunts, and you just know he’s giving Cara a cocky grin underneath his helmet.

As they continue, you look between them, but stop when you start to feel a sudden strong energy filling the ship. You’d only felt it one other time: when the child healed your leg. Before you can process the thought, you watch as Cara suddenly reaches for her throat, dropping Din’s arm in the process. He looks just as horrified as yourself, seeing Cara struggling for air as she claws at her throat. You and Din look to the child at the same time, seeing his hand outstretched as he glares angrily at Cara—death sure in his eyes.

“No! No, no— _stop!_ ” Din exclaims at the child, rushing over to pick him up out of his carrier. Cara sputters as she practically falls onto the table, and you rest a caring hand on her back. “We’re friends, we’re friends. Cara is my _friend!_ ”

Cara lifts her head, pointing at the child with contempt. “That is _not_ okay!” she insists, still breathing heavily from the sudden strain on her throat.

“Hmm… very curious,” Kuiil remarks, walking over from where he’s been sitting.

“Curious? It almost _killed_ me!” Cara reminds him with anguish.

Kuiil turns to Din, ignoring her contribution for the moment. “The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense,” he insists.

Din looks between the child and Kuiil. “What is it?”

“What it is, I don’t know,” Kuiil admits. “But what it does, this… this I’ve heard rumors of.”

You tilt your head at him. You’d also been told stories of knights with glowing swords who could wield the air around them—but you’d assumed it’d all been fairy tales for young children.

“What?” Cara suddenly snaps, looking at Kuiil through narrowed eyes. “When you worked for the Empire?”

“When I was _sold_ to the Empire,” Kuiil defends himself. “In indentured servitude.”

“Yet somehow, you walk free,” Cara growls. You lift a hand to her shoulder, discouraging her from approaching Kuiil any further.

“I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands,” Kuiil argues, “and the labor of three of your human lifetimes.” You and Cara are suddenly aware of the way IG-11’s made his way over, standing beside Kuiil in an almost threatening manner. _He will protect_ , you hear Kuiil’s words in your ear, and your free hand starts to drift towards your holster. “Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve.” Cara and IG-11 start to stare each other down intensely, and you find yourself looking to Din for some kind of intervention. He’s doing the same to you, but he decides to act upon it.

“Tell you what,” Din begins, turning to Kuiil as he continues to hold the child. “I could really use your craftwork right now.” He starts to set the child into its carrier, and it fusses a bit as if he doesn’t wish to return to it. You frown, knowing how uncomfortable the makeshift seat’s been for him. “Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?”

Kuiil studies the carrier, nodding as he looks back up at Din. “I shall fabricate a better one,” he agrees. He then turns back to Cara. “Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one’s hands.”

Kuiil starts to work, keeping the child and his carrier nearby as you, Din, and Cara head up to the cockpit. You sit in the passenger seat as Din looks at some things on the dashboard, Cara leaning around nearby. They talk of his strong distaste for droids—especially IG-11—as you sit silently and listen on. You know your lack of enthusiasm will seem suspicious, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. All you can do is think of the darkness that awaits you on Nevarro, and hope that this plan turns out the way you need it to.

Just as predicted, your silence is soon noted, and you watch as Din turns around to face you. You give him a weak smile—one you’ve tried to make reassuring, but evidently have failed—and see his visor turn to Cara. “Would you mind giving us a minute?” Din asks her, and she gives a knowing nod before she leaves the cockpit. You bite your lip, watching as Din leaves his seat to approach you. He kneels in front of you, bringing his gloved hands to the sides of your face. “ _Cyar’ika_ ,” he practically breathes, his thumbs brushing over your skin as you swallow hard. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, letting out a small sigh. “I’m sorry, Din, I shouldn’t be—.”

“No apologies,” Din cuts you off, his visor tilting down a bit to show his severity. “This lifestyle is too difficult to be apologizing for such worries. Is it about Nevarro?”

You nod, still feeling a bit shameful as your gaze falls to your hands. “I just—I know this is going to be our turning point, Din, no matter what happens. And it’s like how I felt on Sorgan all over again, but much stronger than time, because we have so much to lose.”

“And so much to _gain_ ,” Din encourages you, dropping one hand from your face as the other moves to your chin. He tilts your head up so you’re facing him again, and his free hand rests on top of both of yours. “If we do this, we can liberate the child—and you— _forever_. We can finally find our home.”

You want to smile at his words, to feel the joy begging to flood your heart at the thought of having a home with Din, but you can’t allow yourself that bliss just yet. You’re still imagining the terrifying scenarios, the image of you, Din, or the child ending up dead at the hands of some imperial warlord. “I would love that,” you whisper, removing Din’s hand from your face as you enclose it in your hands. “But Din, you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” Din assures you, his modulated voice as soft as ever.

“You have to promise that if… if something happens to me, if they somehow get me, that you’ll take the child and leave—and don’t try coming for me.”

Din starts to shake his head. “ _Cyar’ika_ —.”

“And if you can, you have to kill me.”

You can sense Din’s horror right away as he stares at you. “I… _cyare_ , I can’t—.”

“Please.” You try your hardest not to let your voice break. “I know too much, Din. I’m too valuable to them. You have to stay safe, you have to get away. But if you can, you have to take me away from them first.”

“Then I will. In a safe way, so you don’t have to die.”

“Din, that’s not safe for _you_. You have to kill me.” You’re met with silence from Din, and you give his hands a squeeze as you await an answer. “Please, promise me. _Please_.”

Din heaves a breath, finally giving your hands a squeeze. “Okay, _cyar’ika_. I promise.” He then pulls your hands to his chest, your fingers chilling at the feeling of his cool beskar. “But it won’t come to that. I won’t let it.”

You give him a nod, smiling a bit. “I know.”

Din stands up, quickly touching his forehead to yours before pulling away. “We’re going to be landing now,” he informs you. “Stay close by me, and I’ll keep you safe. All right?” You’re about to protest when he continues. “I know you don’t need my protection and you can handle yourself on your own, but this is more for my sake of mind.”

You chuckle a bit, nodding as you comply with his words. “All right… _riduur_.”

Din’s smile is practically audible as he lands himself back into his chair. “I love the way you say that,” he comments in a soft murmur, and you bite back a smile of your own.

 _And I love you_. The words want to come out of your throat, but you know the timing isn’t ideal—and so you swallow them back down.

Soon, Nevarro comes back into sight, and Din begins the descent onto the lava fields. You can see the small figures of Greef Karga and some of his men, and you try to hide a scowl as you and Din join the rest of the group down in the hull. You and Din give Kuiil many thanks for the new carrier he’s fashioned for the child, hooking it up to Din’s bracer before you start to mount the blurrgs. Din gets on one and helps you up after him, and you wrap your arms securely around his waist as he drops the ramp of the larger hatch. All of you ride out of the _Crest_ on the blurrgs, moving to sit in a line in front of Greef Karga and his men, who look on with curious eyes. You try not to let your stomach feel sick.

“It appears that introductions are in order,” Karga finally says, resting his hands on his hips as he stares pointedly at Din. “It seems we’ve both provided a security detail.”

Din says nothing, along with Cara and Kuiil. Your cheek rests on the cold beskar of Din’s pauldron as you look ahead, your eyes narrowed as you see Karga’s gaze fall on you for a moment. You know he recognizes you from the brief moment on the _Crest_ during your last interaction, when you thought he was dead—and now he’s likely curious as to why you were there at all.

“I recommend the shock trooper guards the ship,” Karga continues. “These lava fields are lousy with Jawas.”

You hold back a scoff. _This bastard only wants her to stay back because he knows he can’t handle her._ “She’s coming with us,” Din asserts, his modulated voice sounding dryer than you’ve heard it in a long time.

“But the town is now run by ex-Empire,” Karga insists. “If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they’ll all get their hackles up.”

“She’s coming.” Din’s words are more of a statement than a response. The tension in the air’s so thick that you almost feel like you can’t breathe.

“Fine,” Karga finally gives in. “ _Fine_. At least cover your tattoo.” He gestures to Cara’s arm. “No need to flaunt it. Now, where is the little one?”

You give a gentle squeeze to Din’s waist in uneasiness. Cara and Kuiil look over at Din expectantly, and he lets out a breath before he starts to key something in on his bracer. Moments later, the child’s carrier is floating towards Karga, and you almost feel sick upon seeing him so close to the man who wanted him turned in so badly. Karga approaches it, watching as Din opens it up. “So!” Karga starts to exclaim, and you see Din’s hand creep towards his blaster. “This little bogwing is what all the fuss was about.”

Karga picks up the child in his arms, and you hide your face in Din’s pauldron, knowing that he’ll handle whatever disaster may result. You simply can’t take the thought of something going wrong anymore.

“What a precious little creature!” Karga continues. “I can see why you didn’t want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head.” You only face the situation again when you feel Din’s hand leaving his blaster, informing you that it’s safe. Karga’s put the child back in its carrier, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. “Well, I’m glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all.” Din brings the child back to your side. “The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light.”

Din nods to agree, and soon your three blurrgs are all following Karga’s men on a trek through the lava fields. You continue to keep your grip tight on Din’s waist as you look around cautiously, as if a sudden danger’s going to pop out of any corner. This lasts for the rest of the day, until you’re soon camping out just where Karga had planned you to. You manage to get a creature’s meat to cook over a fire for some food, and you nearly wince upon realizing that Din won’t be able to have any. You almost refuse to eat yourself because of it, but Din insists upon you eating. As you sit there, Din and Karga go over the plan, and you realize just how restless Din himself is becoming about everything. You wish to comfort him but know it’s not safe to in front of so many untrustworthy people. They can’t know how valuable you are to each other—not yet.

Suddenly, as Karga starts to go in for a piece of the meat, a flying creature swings low from the sky and hooks its talons into his arm. You throw aside whatever you’ve been eating and reach for your blaster, watching as Din closes the child’s carrier to keep him safe. Everyone starts to shoot into the darkness, unable to spot the creatures that are hovering around you. Your heart’s practically in your throat, and you feel Din staying close by you as you shoot wherever you think you’ve seen movement. You watch as one suddenly takes a blurrg, lifting it and beginning to fly away with it. Kuiil cries out in protest, and Cara tries to shoot at it—but it’s too late.

There’s a sudden pause, and you breath heavily in hopes that they’ve gone away. However, one of the bounty hunters is suddenly snatched up, and you find yourself shooting again. It gets away just as another one swoops in for a blurrg. Cara successfully takes that one out—but the impact of its fall still kills the blurrg.

Your heart truly leaps out of your chest when one suddenly comes in to take a hold on Din. “ _No!_ ” you scream, shooting at the creature with everything you have as you run towards wherever it’s taking him. Din manages to wrestle it back to the ground, trying to fight off its clutch as you and Cara desperately shoot at it. He gets to his knee and uses his flamethrower, successfully scaring it away. You help Din up and grip his arm tightly, looking at him through horrified eyes. “Are you okay?” you breathe, barely able to get the words out of your tightened chest.

“I’m fine,” Din assures you, giving you a nod and hurrying back in the child’s direction. When you both get there, you’re relieved to see that he’s completely all right, and he starts to coo as soon as Din opens the pram back up. Everything finally seems calm again, but a sudden sound starts to make your skin crawl again.

Karga’s groaning from where he’s laying on the ground, and Kuiil hurries over to see what’s the matter. “He’s hurt badly,” he announces, causing Cara to reach for her medpac and join him at Karga’s side.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Karga tries to reassure them. “I’m fine, I’m _fine_ —.” He cuts himself off with another grunt of pain.

“Hold still,” Cara demands, beginning to get to work. “They got you good.”

You and Din peer over their shoulders, watching as she injects something in him. Din tilts his helmet in concern. “How bad?” he questions warily.

Cara takes it back out with a grimace. “ _Bad_ ,” she reports. “The poison’s spreading fast.”

You give Din a fearful look, but he continues staring at the scene ahead of him. Discreetly, you reach for his hand, feeling relieved when he gives it a small squeeze.

“So, this… this is how it happens,” Karga laments.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Cara scoffs, evidently trying to lighten up the situation. “I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs? Anyone?”

No one answers—and thus Cara has her response. She offers a grimace, and you start to hold onto Din’s hand even tighter. “I’m guessing that’s a no,” Karga remarks through a heavy breath.

“It’s still spreading,” Cara states while analyzing it. “This isn’t working.” As she checks it, you suddenly notice the close presence of the child—and a realization hits you: he’s going to try to do the same thing he did to your leg. Cara, however, looks at Kuiil with annoyance. “Get this thing outta here.”

“Wait,” Kuiil insists, looking at the child with a gaze of interest.

You watch as the child lays its small hand on Karga’s arm, its eyes beginning to close as it focuses. “He’s trying to eat me!” Karga insists, and you hold back a chuckle. The familiar energy is felt in the air again, and your jaw falls open slightly at the way Karga’s wounds immediately start to close up. By the time it’s finished, the child is practically vibrating, and it falls back as soon as the job’s done. Karga, Cara, Kuiil, and the rest all look on with eyes of shock—in the same way you’d looked when it happened to you.

Not another word is exchanged as the child is left to rest in its carrier, the rest of you laying low and trying to forget the horrors and miracles you’d just witnessed—knowing that much more awaits you the next day. Before you know it, you’re back on the move, with you, Din, and Cara walking ahead of Kuiil on the only blurrg left. You can tell the town’s nearby, and your nerves only continue to grow as the distance closes.

“You think they’re having second thoughts?” Cara asks Din under her breath as you continue walking.

Din sighs lightly. “Could be,” he answers truthfully. He pauses for a moment, not looking at her again when he speaks. “I need your eyes.”

“I’m watching,” Cara assures him, and you all continue forward in silence.

Once you get to an overlook where the town’s completely in view, Karga stays at the front, inviting you, Cara, and Din to join him close behind. He sighs as he looks out at it. “So, I guess this is it,” he states, and you can hear the hint of something unusual in his tone. Sure enough, he soon turns around quickly with two blasters drawn, taking out both his bounty hunters in a matter of seconds. You, Cara, and Din pull your own blasters, pointing them at him as your heart begins to race a mile a minute. He raises his weapons in surrender, looking between the three of you guiltily. “There’s something you should know,” he announces, starting to walk back towards where the dead bounty hunters now lay. He kicks over one of their bodies and kicks away their weapon. “The plan was to kill you and take the kid.” You feel a shiver go down your spine, and it only makes you tighten your grip on your blaster as you face him. “But after what happened last night, I couldn’t go through with it.”

The three of you don’t budge, refusing to give up the upper hand—in case he tries to pull something else. You’re not fond of the situation, and you knew something was up the whole time. He’s not trustworthy, and you can’t risk something else going wrong.

“Go on,” Karga exclaims. “You can gun me down here and now and it wouldn’t violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe.” He points over at where the child’s sitting in his carrier, looking up at Din with large eyes of innocence. You feel a small ache in your chest at his words. _He’s right_.

“We’ll take our chances,” Cara insists.

“The imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset,” Karga asserts. “You tried to run, but where did it get you?”

Cara scoffs, looking at Din with anger in her eyes. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters.

“Perhaps you should let him speak,” Kuiil urges, earning him a dirty look from Cara.

“Listen, we both need the client to be eliminated,” Karga explains. “Let me take the child to him, and then you two—.”

“No,” Din interrupts curtly, shaking his head to reinforce his statement.

“Let’s just kill him and get outta here,” Cara suggests, pointing her blaster closer to Karga.

Din, to your surprise, starts to lower his blaster, and you and Cara look over at him in shock. “He’s right,” Din finally says, echoing the same words you’ve just thought to yourself. He puts his blaster back in his holster.

Cara raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” she questions in puzzlement.

“As long as the Imp lives, he’ll send hunters after the child,” Din insists.

“It’s a _trap_ ,” Cara reminds him.

Din lets out a breath, as if he’s thinking deeply. You try not to feel uneasy when he offers his idea. “Bring me.”

You almost yell out in protest at his words, but bite your lip to keep yourself from doing so. _Are you crazy?_ you want to shout. _You really think I can let you do that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is?_

“You?” Karga remarks, as if he’s having the same disbelief as yourself.

“Tell him you captured me,” Din goes on, and you look up at him with pure horror. “Get me close to him and I’ll kill him.”

“That’s a good idea,” Karga agrees. He steps closer to Din. “Give me your blaster.”

You and Cara watch in shock as Din starts to do just that. Anger and fear rise up in your stomach, creating a deep pit that sickens you to your very core.

“This is insane!” Cara comments.

“I don’t like this at all,” you admit, instantly feeling Din’s gaze on you.

“It’s the only way,” Din offers, and you find yourself looking away to conceal your uneasiness. You know it doesn’t work—not with Din. He knows you too well, now.

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Cara asserts.

“No, no, no,” Karga says. “That would make them suspicious.

“I don’t care,” Cara nearly growls. “I’m _coming_.”

You want to say the same, but you don’t think you can. You know how bad of an idea that would be—you being an ex-royal of Arilian senators, surely the prized possession of any imperial officer. But you also can’t fathom the idea of Din going there without you.

“Tell them _she_ caught me,” Din suggests.

“Fine,” Karga agrees. “Then she can bring the child.”

Din looks at the child and shakes his head. “No,” he demands. “The kid goes back in the ship.”

“But without the child, none of this works!” Karga exclaims.

“I have a plan,” Din assures him. He looks to Kuiil, minding your presence still close by his side. “Kuiil, you ride back to the _Razor Crest_ with the princess and the child and seal yourselves in. When you’re inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors.”

Kuiil walks forward to hand Din a small piece of equipment. “Here’s a comlink,” he says, taking a deep breath as he looks between you and Din. “We will keep the child safe.” He starts to back away towards the blurrg, stopping to look at Cara. “Don’t forget to cover your stripes.”

She nods, and as they start to make preparations, you finally get the faith to face Din. He’s already been facing you, and you curse as you see his image starting to blur before you. His helmet turns to Cara quickly. “Give me a minute,” he says, seeing her nod before Din pulls you further aside and out of their hearing range. He places both his hands on your shoulders, his visor looking into your gaze intensely. “I know this isn’t what you want to do. I would rather have you by my side—and I’d trust you to be there. But I _have_ to do what I must to keep you and the kid safe, and I can’t risk bringing you into the heart of a bounty hunter _and_ imperial hive.”

“Din, you’re going right to them,” you wince. “Don’t you realize how dangerous that is? What if he’s equipped himself with more backup?”

“Karga said it won’t be more than five or six,” Din says. He takes a deep breath, his gloved hands moving to your face. You close your eyes at his touch. “I’ll be quick with it, _cyar’ika_ , so I can come back to you. All right? I’ll be fine. I’ve got Cara and Karga with me, after all.”

You nod, reopening your eyes to look into his visor. “I trust you,” you assure him quietly. “I just… be safe, all right? Please.”

“And you too,” Din insists. “No sporadically coming after me. In case something should happen, I need you to get the kid away from here.”

You bite your lip, trying to think that dark scenario away. But it sticks, as if it’s already your reality. You heave a breath out of your suffocated lungs. “Okay.”

Din runs his thumbs over your cheeks, his voice lowering to a soft murmur as he goes on. “Stay strong for me, _riduur_. I know you can do it.” He then rests his forehead against yours, savoring it as if it’s the last time he’ll be able to do it. What you don’t expect are the words that follow. “ _Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_.”

Your eyes truly begin to water upon hearing that, your heart thudding in your chest as a small and genuine smile starts to grow on your lips. You remember exactly what the words mean—remembering how endearing they’d been to Din the first time he ever told you about them. _He loves me_ , you rejoice to yourself. _Din loves me_. Unable to hold back, you swallow hard and speak yourself. “I love you too, Din.”

You almost hear his smile as his thumbs give your cheeks another swipe, and you can sense that he wishes to do much more before he forces himself to pull away from you. The process is painful as you walk back over to the group, taking the child from his carrier and holding it in your arms. You wish good luck to Cara and Karga, reaching up to give Din’s forehead one last touch against your own before the three of them start to head towards the town. With a heavily affectionate feeling in your chest and a deeply concerned pit in your stomach, you and Kuiil make your way over to the blurrg, uncertain if you’ll get to see the man you love—and the man who loves you—ever again.


	18. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din, Cara, and Karga head into town, hoping to take out the client once and for all—and instead have to face the cold reality of what’s to come.

As the town comes closer and closer into reach, Din feels his heart accelerate uncontrollably. It’s never felt so conflicted before—half feeling so full of warmth at your shared confessions of love and half feeling completely torn at the idea of not making it back to you—and now it’s working over time to remain calm in this high stakes situations. Din has no idea what the hell he could be walking into, but he feels more assured with Cara by his side—and Karga, he supposes. He tries not to be put off by the fact his hands are cuffed and his blaster’s not in his holster, even if the latter remains in the hands of a trusting person. _At least, I think he’s trustworthy, now_. He doesn’t have a choice.

As they approach, Din sees the true state of Nevarro. Stormtroopers—or, whatever they call themselves now—are stationed right at the entrance, and its inhabitants look uneasy as they stroll around. Din looks over at Cara, sharing a glance of concern as they’re forced to stop in front of the scout troopers. He stands up from where he’s been leaning on his speederbike reluctantly, offering a meager, “Chain code?” to Karga.

“I have a gift for the boss,” Karga explains, gesturing over to Din. He holds back his sigh and swallows down his uneasiness. He’s never had to be the bounty before.

The scout trooper only stands taller. “Chain code?” he repeats, his voice dryer than before.

Karga exhales deeply, digging inside his pocket to show the trooper his card. He takes it and scans it, pausing for a moment to look up at Karga and then back down again. “I’ll give you twenty credits for the helmet,” he says.

“Not a chance,” Karga insists with a chuckle, pointing at Din’s helmet as he speaks. “That’s going on _my_ wall.”

Din can’t help himself now, looking over at Karga with an annoyed tilt to his helmet. “On your _wall?_ ” he mutters in an unimpressed voice that can’t be heard by the trooper.

“Go with it,” Karga breathes back, looking around to play off his words.

The trooper soon hands Karga his card back. “Go ahead,” he instructs, and Karga takes the card with a nod before leading Din and Cara inside the town. They’re horrified to see that there’s troopers practically lining the walls—much more than the four Karga had mentioned before. Din feels a small pit in his stomach but tries to hide it as he remains silent. Cara, on the other hand, can’t help voicing her thoughts.

“You said four,” Cara growls at Karga, looking over at him with an accusatory glare. “There are more than four troopers.”

“Four guarding the client,” Karga explains. “Many more here in town.”

 _Well isn’t that kriffing obvious_ , Din thinks to himself, wishing he could say it aloud but knowing it’s too much of a risk.

“Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse,” Karga continues, looking at his feet as if to avoid the glares behind the helmets of those around them.

Cara pushes the argument away for the moment, instead focusing on her concern as she furrows her brow. “Slip him his blaster,” she tells Karga in a hushed yet firm voice.

“Not yet,” Karga insists, causing Cara to narrow her eyes and grimace. She says nothing else for the moment, though Din can sense that she wants to say a lot more. His gaze falls to the empty pram beside him, and he looks at it with a weight in his chest, thinking of the child, Kuiil, and _you_. He can only hope that you’re all well on your way back to the _Crest_ , soon to be completely out of harm’s way. As long as he has that certainty, he’ll be able to face whatever the hell’s waiting for him in town.

Karga continues to lead the group around until he stops in front of an all-too familiar establishment. “Here we are,” he announces, and Din knows it as the cantina where he and Karga often did business—the place where Din had first laid eyes on you. It’s a much more bittersweet moment now than he thought it’d be, and Din fights to keep himself from audibly wincing at the ache it brings his chest. Instead, he watches as Karga opens the door and takes him by the arm, forcing Din inside ahead of him. He stumbles a few steps and stops to take a quick look around. “You see? Four,” Karga murmurs to Din and Cara, giving a small nod before he continues to lead them over to where the client awaits.

Din nearly feels sick at the sight of the man, suddenly aware of how enthusiastic he is to bring harm to a child— _his_ child. He also thinks about what you’d been fearing: being captured and used for something utterly disgusting, and that gives Din all the more incentive to kill him as quickly as possible. He tries to keep his cool even as the client comes closer, a small smile of relief spreading on his lips.

“Look what I brought you,” Karga states, keeping his arm on Din for the moment. “As promised.”

The client looks Din up and down, causing a horrifying shiver to run through his spine. “What exquisite craftmanship,” the client’s malevolent voice drawls, running the back of his fingers over Din’s cuirass. He nearly feels the bile rising in his throat as he makes his way up to his helmet, looking as if he’s trying to see Din’s gaze behind the visor. Another knot ties itself up in Din’s stomach. “It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans.” Din clenches his jaw to keep himself from saying anything, and Karga raises his brow. Cara remains silent behind them. The client turns to Karga as he continues. “Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?”

“I would be obliged,” Karga answers with a small nod.

There’s a brief pause in which a nearby droid says something, but Din doesn’t care to listen for it. “Please sit,” the client instructs, and Karga practically pushes Din in the direction of a nearby table. He holds back a quip about being too rough—knowing it’s just all a part of the act—and takes his place as the client goes on. “It is a shame that your people suffered so,” he says, sitting across from Din and Karga. “Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion?”

Din grits his teeth to keep himself composed. His blood’s reaching a dangerously high temperature, and the urge to kill is itching through to his very bones.

“The Empire improves every system it touches,” the client insists, and Din has to hold back a sarcastic chuckle. “Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now.”

Din thinks of what happened under Imperial rule. His home was destroyed, his parents _killed_ right in front of his very eyes, his very identity stripped away from him in that single moment—a moment where he could’ve had the same fate. And now, Din is thinking of you, and your parents being killed along with thousands on Alderaan and Arilia—and almost you. That’s enough to make him want to scream about how wrong he is, how twisted his mind must be. All the Empire craves is horror and death.

“Look outside,” the client urges, going on with his infuriating speech. “Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos.” Din’s so close to letting something slip, to revealing the true horrors he’s had to see firsthand that are nothing compared to what’s going on now—but, instead, he’s cut off by a request of the client. “I would like to see the baby.”

Karga smacks his lips nervously, as if he’s trying to think of an excuse on the fly. “Uh… it is asleep,” he informs him urgently, leaning forward with his arm to stop the client from opening the pram.

“We all will be quiet,” the client assures Karga, starting to lean closer to the pram. Din can feel Cara’s nervous glance on both Karga and himself, and he can sense Karga’s uneasiness at the child’s absence being known. “Open the pram,” the client demands. The group starts to look around anxiously when a trooper suddenly comes to whisper something to the client. He listens with narrowed eyes, nodding as the trooper pulls away. “Don’t think me to be rude,” the client says as he rises from his seat, Karga doing the same across from him. “I must take this call.” He then makes his way over to the empty bar.

Din nearly breathes a sigh of relief as he frees himself from the binders, setting them aside to prepare himself for the moment of truth. Karga sits back down beside him, and the client’s troopers help him to prepare for whatever call he’s expecting to receive. Din leans over to Karga’s ear, muttering a quick, “Give me the blaster.”

Karga hands it over under the table. “You get one shot,” he reminds him, and Din gives him a small nod as he takes the familiar weapon in his gloved hand.

“This is bad,” Cara whispers, leaning forward to face the both of them as she voices her worries. “You said four.”

“Well, there are more,” Karga mumbles. “What can I tell you?”

Din can hear the transmission coming through by the client, the blue light reflecting a bit off the medal that dangles from his neck. He hears a voice that he can’t quite make out, and even the client keeps his words low as Din tries to decipher them. They exchange a few words, and then there’s a brief silence.

Suddenly, the window of the bar shatters as a red blaster bolt drives straight through the client’s chest, followed by more consistent shots. Din and Karga quickly work to flip the table over, taking cover behind it as Cara joins them. His heart’s practically leapt in his throat at the utter chaos, just about every trooper getting shot down as the fire continues. The glass continues to break in violent shards, and Din doesn’t risk looking past their cover as he continues to hear it roar down. Crumbles of concrete start to rain down from the places where the blasts hit the pillars, and Din’s painfully aware of how grateful he is for him armor in this moment. He makes sure Karga and Cara are all right in their absence of any similar protection, looking out with his blaster once the chaos comes to a halt—just as suddenly as it’d arrived.

Din, Cara, and Karga look around at each other curiously, each starting to stand up and run out from behind their cover. They place themselves around the shattered window, still sticking tight to the walls as they refuse to make themselves known to whoever is their potential ally—or worst nightmare. Once Din’s secured behind a part of the wall, he dares to turn his head and look out at the sight, his heart sinking at what he observes.

A line of Death troopers—at least six of them—are standing right outside the window, their blasters still engaged as they offer more potential risk. He watches as transports fly in with more reinforcements, the stormtroopers hopping off to join the Death troopers in surrounding the bar.

Cara leans back against her part of the wall, looking at Karga with a raised brow. “ _Four_ stormtroopers?” she scoffs, and Din watches as more and more keep coming. They fall in line with the Death troopers, creating rows and rows of practically indestructible force. Din feels the ache in his chest grow when he falls upon his realization: he won’t be coming back to you as soon as he’d hoped. You’ll have to go without him.

Din holds back a cry at the thought as he instead reaches for his comlink, holding it up to his helmet as he begins to speak. “Kuiil?” he asks urgently. “Are you back to the ship yet?” When he gets no answer, his heart continues to sink, and fear floods throughout his veins. “Are you there? Do you copy?”

“Yes!” Kuiil exclaims, causing relief to hit Din like one of the blaster bolts.

“Are you back to the ship yet?” Din repeats his question.

“Not yet,” Kuiil answers, and Din feels some of his past panic return.

“Get back to the ship and _bail_ ,” Din insists firmly. “You both need to get the kid out of here. We’re pinned down!”

Din swears he hears your small wince as the comlink goes out, and he struggles to hold back another one of his own as he holds the small contraption against his cuirass. He closes his eyes underneath the visor. _It’s all right,_ cyar’ika, he envisions saying to you. _We’ll be all right. I’ll make sure I get out of here and meet you somewhere soon._

His thoughts are cut off by the sound of a ship flying in from the atmosphere. Din reopens his eyes and looks around to feel his entire body practically go numb at the sight of a TIE fighter making its descent into the crowd of troopers. He tires to think of someone who could possibly be in possession of it—someone who survived the trials that occurred after the fall of the Empire—but his thoughts are fruitless. Din simply has to wait and continue to watch as the door of the fighter slowly hisses open, revealing a cloaked figure with shining armor—armor Din hates to realize is slightly reminiscent of his own.

The man in question manages to get to the ground and stride forward from the crowd, taking his time as he’s followed by a group of more troopers. When he stops, he stares for a few moments, as if trying to stir fear in the people he knows he’s trapped. Din tries not to give him this benefit, but all he can think about are you and the kid—and that’s enough to make him give into the man’s tactics at least partially.

“You have something I want,” the new voice asserts, and Din’s brow furrows upon hearing it.

Cara looks over at Din and Karga with confusion. “Who’s this guy?” she questions, yet Din’s too focused to make any kind of a reaction to her words. He yearns to hear more, to continue this game of stalling so that Kuiil, you, and the kid have more time to get back to the ship.

“You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of,” the man continues, “but you do not.”

Din freezes, swallowing hard as he adjusts his grip on his comlink. “Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet?” he asks feverishly. “They’re onto us!” When Din earns no response, he feels his panic from before skyrocket as he reaches full desperation. “Kuiil, come in!”

“In a few moments, it will be mine,” the man asserts, and Din truly feels his body go cold then. _No—no, they can’t know! They can’t get to them first!_ He doesn’t want to think about what they could do to the three of you if they caught up.

“Kuiil, _do you copy?_ ” Din hisses urgently, his hands already beginning to shake as he tries not to fear for the worst just yet. When he still yields no response, he reverts back to his desperation. “ _Kuiil!_ ”

“It means more to me than you will ever know,” the man goes on darkly, and Din can practically picture the smirk growing on his lips.

“ _Kuiil!_ ” Din tries again, his panic evident at this point. “Are you there?”

Nothing.

“Come in, Kuiil!”

Still, nothing.

“Kuiil, come in.”

 _Nothing_.

Din’s cursing inside his head, practically feeling his lungs run out of breath as he continues helplessly. “Kuiil?Are you there? Do you _copy?_ Kuiil! _Kuiil!_ ” His heart’s beating at a mile a minute as he imagines the worst that could’ve happened to Kuiil, the kid, and… _you_.

 _Shab._ Fuck.

“It just so happens that I now have something that _you_ want, as well,” the man goes on, and Din’s hand with the comlink begins to drop to his side as his body nearly collapses against the wall. _No_ , he tries to convince himself. _He’s not talking about…_ “Fine royalty. Likely worth a high price. She could get you a handsome reward—possibly one that’s more handsome than herself.”

Din feels Karga and Cara’s gazes on him now, burning through him as if to warn him from doing anything he might regret at this information. He can’t even think of that; all he can think about is his worst fear coming true—Din having to follow through with the promise he’d made you.

“She’s on her way, and should you be willing to agree to my terms—I will _consider_ giving her back.”

So, there’s a chance you can be returned safely to him, after all. But at a cost—a cost Din knows will take the child away from him. The same thing you both teamed up for in the first place to protect. The piece of him that he’s grown to love as much as you. And now he’ll have to choose between you both. _What the hell did I do to deserve this?_

Cara looks away from where she’s been observing the troops, facing Karga with a furrowed brow. “Is there another way out?” she questions, and Din’s thankful to have at least one rational mind while his is in a wreck.

“No, that’s it,” Karga informs her darkly.

Din looks from Karga to the crowd again, and then sighs as he tries to clear his mind and contemplate their options. “What about the sewers?” he offers.

“Sewers?” Karga echoes.

“The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers,” Din explains, knowing this information’s dangerous to give away—but not caring in the urgency of the situation. If they get out fast enough, they might be able to catch you, Kuiil, and the child and get you all back to safety. “If we can get down there, they can help us escape.”

Cara nods earnestly. “Yeah, sewers are good,” she agrees, looking to Din for further instruction.

Instantly, he turns to the tools he knows best, trying to push everything else aside as he goes to work. “Checking for access points,” he announces, scanning around with his visor.

“What the hell are they waiting for?” Cara asks as he looks, her eyes never leaving the grim site awaiting them outside. Din hears them opening boxes and marching around, but he’s too focused on what he’s doing now to pay it mind. With the way he’s feeling, he can only focus on one task at a time—or else he’ll crack. “Hold up,” Cara breathes, and she lets out a sigh before he back collapses against the wall. She looks over at Din and Karga with an expression of disbelief. “They’re setting up an E-Web.”

Karga grimaces, looking out with nothing but darkness. “It’s over.”

Din, however, is still continuing his search, feeling a skip in his heart when he picks something up. “I found the sewer vent,” he says, causing Cara and Karga to perk up a bit at the good news.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Cara mutters, taking off in the direction Din’s pointed out. They continue to duck for cover as they rip away the seating that shields the vent, finding the heavy grate concealing the sewer. They try to start ripping it away, but it won’t budge—as if it’s practically soldered to the rest of the structure. Din and Cara continuously try to pull at it, but they make no progress.

“It’s assembled!” Karga suddenly exclaims, looking over at Din and Cara with panic. “How long until that thing’s cleared?”

“Blow it,” Cara suggests.

“I’m out of charges,” Din informs her lowly.

She begins to walk over to where she left her weapon, picking it up as she hoists it back up. “Get out of the way!” Cara warns Din, and he quickly steps aside as she starts to let loose on the grate. After many well-fired shots, she kicks at the metal—but still, it doesn’t give way. Din feels his heart sink even further.

“Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation,” the man announces from the outside, causing Din, Cara, and Karga to all stop where they are and stare at him again. “I would prefer to avoid any further violence and encourage a moment of consideration.”

The sound of a single speederbike can soon be heard, and Din nearly falls to his knees upon seeing one of the scout troopers from before hopping off with your limp body in his arms. He forces you onto the ground just beside the cloaked man, causing you to slump forward on your knees—likely in a state of being stunned. Din clenches his jaw as he steps forward, ready to shoot whoever the hell he has to in order to get you back safely, but Cara stops him by placing a hand against his cuirass and forcing him to remain in place.

“Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster,” the man goes on, not acknowledging your sudden presence for the moment. “If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model.”

Upon hearing her name, Cara’s hand slides off of Din’s cuirass as she steps forward herself. Her jaw’s dropped as she furrows her brow, evidently unable to process the fact that this man somehow knows who she is—and has the courage to say such a thing about her ranks in the past.

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears.”

Din joins Cara as he steps ahead at this information. His heart had broken many moments ago, but upon recalling the painful past—upon hearing a person that’s not you say his name for the first time in much too long—he feels as if it’s now been completely torn out from his chest. _How the hell does he know who I am?_ Din nearly goes numb as the realization dawns upon him. _Maker… it’s Moff Gideon._ He doesn’t know how, but he knows that’s the only reasonable choice.

“I advise disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end.”

There’s a tense silence in which no one knows what to say—where no one wants to _speak_. It feels as if upon hearing the wrong words, they’ll kill you all in a heartbeat. Yet, Karga still manages to get something out of his throat. “What do you propose?” he exclaims.

“Reasonable negotiation,” Moff remarks. With a hand, he gestures to your crumpled form—causing Din to wince under his breath.

Karga scoffs at his empty words. “What assurance do you offer?”

“If you’re asking if you can trust me, you cannot,” Moff replies. “Just as _you_ betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand. The assurance I give is this: I will act in my own self-interest, which at this time involves your cooperation and benefit.” His gaze floats back down to you, who’s now beginning to breath a bit more rapidly. Din almost collapses onto Cara when he watches your head rise slowly, your eyes hooded as you look up to see the shattered window of the cantina. “And you may be able to win her back—should you care enough.”

Din swallows hard, and he feels Cara’s hand on his shoulder. But his eyes can’t break away from you—especially as your gaze somehow meets his behind the visor. Din can see all the regret you hold, likely for failing to get the child away as planned, as well as the pain in having to see Din in such a dangerous position. He hates your selflessness, the way he knows that you’re about to plead for him to follow through with a promise he can’t bring himself to uphold.

“D-Din,” he barely manages to hear your voice say from outside. “Din, I know you’re in there.”

“Ah, so she speaks,” Moff practically rejoices, looking back up with a sinister twinkle in his eye. “And she knows you, just as anticipated. Were you planning on running away with our lost princess of Arilia, too?”

Din grits his teeth, wanting nothing more than to see the life get sucked out of Moff’s eyes. His thoughts of such murder are stopped, however, when he hears your voice again, tugging at his every heart string. “Din, you promised me,” you practically wail, your desperation obvious as your hands remain bound behind you. Din can feel the cracks so pointedly in his heart, now, closing his eyes behind the visor as he wills himself the strength to remain somewhat calm. “You _promised!_ ”

“You should know a hunter never keeps a promise,” Moff scolds her, and Din reopens his eyes only to imagine himself firing the blaster bolt that kills Moff once and for all.

“ _Din!_ ” your voice tries one last time, practically going hoarse from the way it calls for him. Cara tightens her grip on Din’s shoulder, encouraging him to keep it together. He balls his hands into fists, using every fiber of his being to remain composed.

“Let’s not rush them, princess,” Moff insists, turning around to look at the state of daylight. When he faces the cantina again, he addresses those inside of it. “I will give you until nightfall, and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.”

Moff starts to walk away, and two troopers grab each of your arms to follow him. “Wait!” you exclaim from behind gritted teeth, trying to fight them off. “ _Din!_ ” Upon hearing his name from your struggling lungs once again, Din starts to charge forward, but Cara uses her body to stop him, forcing both hands against her cuirass as she pushes him back. His visor never leaves you, and he watches as you turn your head around to look into the threatening void of the broken cantina. Your voice is much softer when you say your next words. “ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, riduur_. I’m sorry.”

And as he watches your head turn back around, Din finally collapses to his knees on the ground, feeling the heavy weight of too many failures resting on his shoulders—failures he know he can never come back from unless he plays his cards the right way.


	19. The Culmination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When IG-11 comes through, the group thinks they have a chance at getting out safe—but Moff Gideon has other plans.

You swallow hard, raising your chin as you refuse to let any of your tears fall. You can’t show this vulnerability to the people who have you surrounded. Leaving Din like that was painful—seeing him so utterly broken beneath that beskar was _so_ painful—but you can’t give these Imps the pleasure of seeing you affected by their actions. You want to feel angry that Din didn’t follow through with his promise, but at the same time, it was unfair of you to ask him to do something so difficult in the first place. If you were in the same situation as him, you wouldn’t have been able to do it, either.

But the main thing you feel as the two Imps lead you to wherever their leader’s going is guilt. You were supposed to keep the child _safe_ —and you don’t even know what’s happened to him. You and Kuiil had been riding on the blurrg as fast as you could to the _Crest_ when you’d been stunned, and you have no idea what they did with the child or Kuiil. You want to hope they’re both alive, but you can’t be sure. You think at least the child is in their custody—but Kuiil’s fate is unknown to you, and you don’t have a good feeling about what it turned out to be.

The Imps stop once you’re standing further beyond the TIE fighter, and they force you down onto your knees as their leader turns to face you. You look up at him with as much disgust as you can muster, observing his slick armor and the cape that falls ominously around his shoulders. You’d known of a few Imperial officers back when your parents were senators, but this one is unfamiliar to you. His lips curl into a smirk as he looks down at you, and you grimace back up at him.

“How exciting is it to have none other than the Princess of Arilia in company today?” he drawls, raising an eyebrow. “If only your parents were still here to see it.”

You’re close to spitting on his shoes—but you feel as if you’ll gain nothing but a swift death from it. Instead, you continue to scowl at him, trying to ignore the amusement dancing in his dark gaze.

“I see you’ve grown close with the Mandalorian,” he continues, and your blood boils at his mentioning of Din. “It’s a shame he’d let you get so close when there’s so much at risk. Did you ever stop to think that it was all a setup, and he wanted you close so he could turn you in later?”

You clench your jaw, wanting so badly to instantly deny his words. You know they’re not true—you know how Din feels, how _you_ feel, and how real it all is—and you know he’s simply trying to get a rise out of you.

“He’s a bounty hunter. That’s what he does—he _kills_. For money. You’re nothing but a couple of credits to him and you know it.”

“That’s not true,” you can’t help growling back at him. “You don’t know him.”

“I don’t have to know him, princess, to know what bounty hunters do.” He still has that _kriffing_ smile on his face, and you wish with everything in you that you could slap it off. “Once I tempt him enough with another reward, he won’t hesitate in surrendering that child completely—and _you_.”

“You’re wrong!” Your exclamation is full of seething anger, your teeth barred as you sneer at him. “You don’t _know_ him.”

He suddenly starts to kneel down in front of you, his dark gaze never leaving yours as he rests his arm against his knee. He only stops once he’s eye level with you, and your stomach twists in uncomfortable knots as he pauses before saying his next words. “I’m Moff Gideon, princess,” he tells you in a firm voice. “I was an officer during The Great Purge of Mandalore. I’ve known Din Djarin for longer than _you_ have.”

Din had told you all about The Great Purge, and the pain it brought him and the covert before they were forced to flee and hide like sand rats on Nevarro. The thought of this man being responsible for it—for bringing Din and his comrades so much pain—makes you even angrier than before, and your brow is furrowed intently as Gideon smirks and stands back up. “He won’t give in,” you insist, refusing to let his words unsettle you. “He’s not the man you think he is.”

Gideon raises his brow at you, offering a shrug. “Then we’ll just have to kill him.”

Your heart falls into your stomach at his words, but you know he won’t be able to take out Din easily—and that thought reassures you.

Meanwhile, inside the cantina, Cara’s just helped Din get back up onto his feet, and no later is she scrambling around for additional weapons from the dead bodies surrounding them. Karga spins around to face them, his desperation evident.

“I say we hear him out,” he suggests, and Cara scoffs at his words.

“The minute we open that door, we’re _dead_ ,” she asserts, a haunted tone in her voice as she pauses her work to give Karga a serious look.

“We’re dead if we _don’t!_ ” Karga retaliates. “At least out there, we’ve got a shot.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Cara remarks, her own panic obvious as she voices her deepest fears. “I’m a Rebel Shock Trooper. They’ll upload me to a Mind Flayer.”

“Those aren’t real,” Karga assures her. “That was just wartime propaganda.”

“Well, I don’t care to find out,” Cara snaps, her brow furrowed as she looks at him. “I’m shooting my way out of here.”

Karga sighs lightly, looking back at Din and raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “What about you, Mando?”

Din swallows hard, trying to push his emotions back as he focuses on the situation at hand— _needing_ to put all his energy into fixing it. “I know who he is,” Din confesses lowly, his helmet that’s been staring at the ground finally looking up at Karga and Cara. They both freeze in place, staring at him with curious eyes. Din pauses, needing a moment before he reveals the truth. “It’s Moff Gideon.”

“No,” Cara insists almost breathlessly, her eyes widened in disbelief. “Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes.”

“It’s him,” Din assures her. “He knew my name.”

“So?” Karga scoffs. “What does that prove?”

“I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child,” Din confesses half-truthfully. You’re his special exemption. When he hears you say it, it’s more of a sacred chant than it is a saying of his name.

“On Mandalore?” Karga inquires.

“I was not _born_ on Mandalore,” Din informs him.

“But you’re a Mandalorian,” Karga says, evidently confused.

“Mandalorian isn’t a race,” Cara tells him gently.

“It’s a Creed,” Din finishes for her, taking a deep breath as he recounts his story. He tells them about how he and his parents were forced out of their homes and into the chaotic streets of his home planet, an attack led by battle droids plaguing his village. Din’s practically numb to the pain as he talks of his parents getting him to safety at the price of their lives, and him almost having the pay the same thing—until a Mandalorian came to his rescue. They helped him to get away, bringing him to safety shortly after he was found. “I was a foundling,” he says. “They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That’s how I know it’s him.”

“That’s how he knows who we all are,” Cara adds on.

“He says he needs us, which means the child got away safely,” Din reflects, hoping with all his heart that it’s true. “I was worried when the Ugnaught didn’t respond—but if they’d captured the kid, we’d already be dead.”

“Hail them again,” Cara demands, continuing to sweep throughout the cantina as Karga helps himself to a much-needed drink.

Din holds back a scoff as he tries the comlink again. “Come in, Kuiil,” he says, grimacing when he hears static in response. “ _Kuiil?_ ” Din shakes his head at more silence. “Nothing.”

“They might’ve jammed the link,” Cara insists, nodding at him to try again.

Suddenly, the comlink buzzes to life—and all Din can hear are the chaotic coos of the child. He looks at it with widened eyes, unable to believe he’s hearing it right. Cara and Karga look over immediately, their faces full of shock as the noise continues. Then comes the voice that sends shivers down Din’s spine: “Kuiil has been terminated.”

 _IG-11_. Din clenches his jaw. _Not the kriffing droid._ “What did you _do?_ ” Din questions between gritted teeth.

“I am fulfilling my base function,” IG-11 responds simply.

“Which is?” Din presses in a panicked manner.

“To nurse and protect,” IG-11 answers. Din, Cara, and Karga all share concerned gazes for a moment, until the faint sound of chaos is heard from somewhere outside. The three instantly peer out the window, and Cara waves Din over as Karga takes more panicked shots.

“Look!” she exclaims, and Din runs over to meet her. They inch closer to the window to see explosions rising from just further down the way, and no later does IG-11 appear on a speeder—the child sitting with him in a satchel. Din nearly sighs in relief upon seeing the child safe—and he can’t help feeling thankful for the distraction and much-needed assistance of the ex-bounty droid. IG-11 soon hops off the speeder and lands gracefully, allowing the speeder to spin out of control and explode into a large group of stormtroopers.

 _Now’s the time_ , Din thinks to himself, beginning to reach for his holster.

“Cover me!” Din exclaims to Cara, pleased to see her nod and respond by swinging her way on top of the bar. She starts taking out anyone she can in sight, and Din makes his way over to the door. He feels Karga close behind him as the door slides open, and Din wastes no time walking through and taking out the first people in sight. He shoots a trooper to his right and kicks down another one in front of him, blasting them dead shortly thereafter. Din continues to ruthlessly target whoever’s around him, only able to think of two things: saving the child and saving you.

When he gets a free moment, Din looks over at Karga, seeing him give a nod that encourages Din to go do what he needs to. Din nods back and heads off in the direction he’d seen the two Imps take you in, easily shooting down whoever stands in his way. He can only hope you’re not far off—and not already hurt or secured in their clutches. Din’s heart nearly leaps into his throat when he sees on the ground between two Imps, your back faced to him. Adrenaline pumps intensely through his veins, and before the troopers even have a chance to aim in his direction, Din’s thrown his vibroblade into the throat of one and shot through the chest of the other. They both fall to the ground in crumpled heaps, causing your head to shoot up as you struggle to turn around.

“ _Din_ ,” you breathe, and despite the surrounding chaos, he’s still able to hear you—as if you’re the only thing worth listening to.

“ _Cyar’ika,_ ” Din responds, feeling his heart piece back together for the first time since leaving you. He doesn’t waste a beat lunging forward to free you from your restraints, and he’s glad to at least momentarily accept the way your throw your arms around his torso and pull him close to you. He holds you for a moment—and that’s all you truly need.

You can also feel your heart returning as you hold him close, letting out a deep breath as you try to clear your mind. “I’m so sorry,” you start apologizing, looking into his visor with relief and regret. “We tried to get there fast, but they caught up to us. And he—it’s Moff Gideon, Din—he was just here a second ago, I don’t know where he went.”

“Hey, _breathe_ ,” Din assures you, running his gloved hand over your cheek. “Don’t worry about any of it, all right? What I need you to do right now is _fight_.”

You give him a nod and a small smile. “I can do that.”

“Great.” Din touches his forehead to yours quickly, continuing once he pulls away. “I have a plan—and I need you to cover me. Once I’m over there, you can do what you need to—Cara’s also covering me.”

You give him a nod, watching as his hand gently grabs yours and sets his blaster inside of it. You secure it around your fingers, looking back up at him with a confident smile. Din grabs his vibroblade from the dead trooper and slides it back into his boot, gesturing over to the E-Web setup. Giving another nod of understanding, he and you both make your way over, you shooting at anyone who tries to stop you. Once Din’s gotten to the E-Web safely, he reaches to hoist it up, starting to unleash it on whoever he can. You can’t help admiring him and his strength for a moment before you launch yourself into the heat of the battle, engaging with a nearby group of troopers as you seek your revenge.

You’ve taken out quite a few of the troopers by the time you spot the glow of Moff Gideon’s dark armor again. You narrow your eyes as you watch him, trying to see what he’s up to. When he suddenly lifts up a blaster, your eyes follow the target, and you see it pointed at Din—whose back is turned to him. Moff’s too far out of your range for a shot, so you try to call to him.

“Din, watch out!” you exclaim, but you’re drowned out by the sounds of combat—and the shot hits Din solid in the beskar. You feel relief that he’s virtually unharmed, although he trips a step and tries to turn around to face the E-Web at Gideon. You almost start smiling at the way Din’s about to obliterate Gideon with his own weapon, but then see Gideon change his aim—right towards the power source of the E-Web. You can’t even get the protest out as the shot’s made, and suddenly Din is in flames.

Your heart falls out of your chest. _No—he isn’t—he can’t be—._

“ _Din!_ ” you cry out, your voice cracking in your disbelief as you run towards him. You’d seen his body fly through the air and hit the ground— _hard_ —and now you see where he’s laying completely motionless. Your vision is blurred by tears, smoke, and things you can’t even identify nor bother trying to as you practically stumble over to Din’s body, feeling as if the heat of the explosion is spreading throughout your body and burning you alive. You don’t stop until you’re by his side, and immediately you fall to your knees as you press your fingers against his neck. You can still feel a pulse—but it’s weaker than you’d like it to be. It’s _too_ weak. He won’t make it out here. “ _Riduur_ , please,” you beg, already feeling your choked-up sobs beginning to release themselves in desperation. “Please don’t leave me!” Your hands rest on his stained cuirass, your gaze looking up to see Cara running towards you in a hurry. “Cara, please help!” you beg her, although you know she’s already going to.

“I got him,” she assures you gently, leaning down to scoop Din’s upper body up into her arms roughly. “Head back inside!” You nod, shaking as you rein in IG-11, the child, and Karga and get them inside with you. Cara follows with Din not long after, and you immediately stick to their sides. “Stay with us, buddy!” she says to him, gritting her teeth as she aims to prop him up against a fallen table. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Karga’s talking to IG-11 somewhere nearby, but you can’t register what they’re saying. All you can think about is Din’s motionless body sitting in front of you, and your heart that starts to break more and more with each passing moment. “Stay with me,” you beg him in a desperate tone, reaching for one of his gloved hands and holding it between your own. You see IG-11 drop the child off nearby, but you can’t even bring yourself to look over at him. Thankfully, Cara does it for you, making sure he’s all right.

Din’s helmet finally moves on its own, moving to the side as it faces you in a tired manner. “I’m not gonna make it,” Din informs you, his modulated voice sounding weaker than you’ve ever heard it before. It only makes your vision blur more and your chest ache further. “Go.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead, your voice shaking as you hold his hand tighter. “That’s—That’s not true.”

“You just got your bell rung,” Cara agrees, giving him a few nods of reassurance. You notice that she’s almost just as panicked as you are. “You’ll be fine.”

“Leave me,” Din demands in as firm a voice as he can manage. Your heart breaks at the sound of it—but what truly puts you over the edge is watching as Cara pulls her hand away from where it’s been settled near his helmet, seeing the thick amount of blood trailing on her skin. Your chest forces a sob out, and you bite your lip to keep more from doing the same.

“I’m gonna need to take this thing off,” Cara insists with widened eyes, her hands start to reach for his helmet.

“ _No_ ,” Din insists gruffly, reaching his free hand up to catch one of her wrists. “You leave me.” He looks back over at you, his lungs gasping for air as he does so. “ _Both_ of you. You… you make sure the child is safe.” He wheezes through all his words, and you swear you’ve never felt more helpless in your entire life.

“ _Riduur_ , please—” you try to reason with him, your voice barely audible through your emotions.

“Here,” Din says, his free hand reaching up weakly to pull off his Mythosaur necklace—one he’s shown to you many times before. He places it in Cara’s hand shakily, as if the task’s almost too much for him. “When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that.” He pauses to try to take another breath, the sound corrupted in his voice modulated. “You tell them it’s from Din… Dj-Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they’ll help you.”

Cara nods, looking over at you to see your horrified eyes only staring at Din. You shake your head at him, your heart feeling heavier than ever before as you try to reason with him. “We can _make_ it,” you insist with a wince, pulling his hand closer towards your chest. You look over at Cara for help, but she shakes her head at you, as if to say you should resign to his request. Unable to fathom the idea of it, you drop his hand and move for his shoulders. “Come on! Let’s go—!”

“I’m not gonna make it, and you _know_ it,” Din insists through a shaky breath, his voice cracking in his own despair—mainly at the way you’re so utterly in disbelief as to what’s happening.

Suddenly, a burst of flames appears from behind you. You throw yourself over Din to cover him completely, feeling its wave of heat wash over you intensely. Din’s too weak to fight you off, and you feel relieved for that. Cara takes cover nearby with the child, and your panic only starts to increase as you try to envision how you can possibly get out in time. When the fire stops, you lean back up to see most of the cantina in flames—a signal that next time, the whole building’s at risk of being engulfed, including you. “We have to go _now_ , Din,” you urge, trying again to move him away.

“You protect the child,” Din instructs you, one of his gloved hands shakily making its way up to touch your cheek. You lean into his touch desperately, closing your eyes as you absorb it. He wipes away one of your fallen tears, surely leaving grime in its place. “I can hold them back long enough for you to escape.” He pauses, his breath hitching as he finishes. “Let me have a warrior’s death.”

You reopen your eyes, looking into his visor seriously as you furrow your brow. “I _won’t leave you_ ,” you insist firmly, placing your hand over his and holding onto it tightly.

Din remains silent for a moment, his thumb only weakly grazing your cheek again before he speaks. “This is the way,” he tells you in a gentle whisper.

You shake your head at him, more tears falling in your desperation. “It doesn’t have to be,” you confess with a whimper.

Another wave of fire suddenly makes its way inside, and once again you throw yourself over Din’s body. It ends much more quickly this time, and when you look back up, you see the trooper standing there—aiming his next blow directly at you. You swallow hard, preparing to die alongside the man you love as you watch the flames fly towards you.

It’s like slow motion as you see the child stretching his hands out towards the trooper, his eyes falling closed as the familiar energy fills the room. Your jaw drops as you see the flames meet an almost invisible wall that the child creates with his energy, forcing the flames to remain far away from you, Din, and Cara. He holds it midair for a few long moments, his body trembling in focus before he flicks his hand and forces the fire back into the trooper’s direction. It causes him to explode as he falls back out of the cantina, keeping all of you inside perfectly safe as the child falls back to rest. Cara rushes over to get him inside the satchel, and you remain by Din’s side. The sound of IG-11 breaking through the grate sounds, followed by Karga encouraging you all to go.

“Go,” Din tells you weakly, and your heart no longer able to handle the sound of his empty voice. “ _Go_.”

“Din— _riduur_ —please, I can’t leave you here,” you beg, stifling a sob as you stare down at him in desperation. “Please don’t make me.”

“ _Go_ , _cyar’ika_ ,” Din urges you, giving your hands a squeeze with whatever energy he can muster. “Please. For… for me.”

You shake your head, your breathing labored as you rest your forehead against his. “I—I can’t, Din,” you confess, your tears beginning to spill onto his dirty helmet as you completely lose control. “I love you. I _can’t_.”

“I… I l-love you too, _riduur_ ,” Din struggles to get out, the words coming heavy from his chest. “Please—if you love me— _go_.”

You release another sob, still shaking your head even as you feel Cara’s hand grab your shoulder and ease you away. “No,” you murmur, trying to resist her strong grip. “Din…”

“Be s-strong for me, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din asks you softly, running his hand over your face before Cara pulls you away completely.

“ _No!_ ” you protest as another sob falls from you. Cara wraps her arm protectively over your shoulders as she leads you over to the opened grate. You can’t think straight—you can’t think at all—as you follow along with her. When you see IG-11 hand the child to you, everything’s already numb, and you barely process his words.

“Escape and protect this child,” IG-11 instructs. “I will stay with the Mandalorian.”

Your chest heaves as you swallow hard, trying to find your words again. “Promise me you’ll bring him,” you manage, looking at the droid in hopes of him noticing your pure desperation.

“You have my word,” IG-11 assures you, and with that, Cara leads you closer to the open grate—and soon she’s helping you inside.

Din finds it harder to breathe by the moment—especially now that you’re gone. His heart’s just as broken as the rest of his body, and his only peace is knowing that he’s helped to keep you safe before he goes. He watches lazily from behind his visor as IG-11 settles down in front of him, waiting for the moment the droid pulls a trigger at him, just like the battle droids tried to do all those years ago. Din heaves a sigh as he wets his dry lips to speak.

“Do it,” Din demands, resigning himself to his fate. He absorbs the last image of you he’s tried to burn into his memory.

“Do what?” IG-11 questions in his monotonous voice.

“Just get it over with,” Din answers, his tone flat as he looks somewhere beyond the droid. He takes another strangled breath, trying to get his thoughts out. “I’d rather you kill me than some Imp.”

“I told you, I am no longer a hunter,” IG-11 insists, and Din can tell he’s being looked at with confusion. “I am a nurse droid.”

Din would scoff if he had enough air in his lungs, but with the suffocating flames and smoke around him along with the damage he suffered in the explosion, he can’t do much other than look back at the droid with doubt. “IGs are _all_ hunters.”

“Not this one. I was reprogrammed. I need to remove your helmet if I am to save you.”

IG-11 reaches one of his arms to approach Din’s helmet, and he quickly reaches for his holster and takes the blaster you’d replaced there. He points it at the droid without hesitation, watching as it pauses its movements. He wheezes, trying to find the air to speak. “Try it and I’ll kill you.”

IG-11 looks between Din and the blaster a few times. Din narrows his eyes, well aware that the droid can’t see them.

“It is forbidden,” Din continues. “No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I sw-swore the Creed.”

IG-11 pauses for a moment, and Din watches as he dares to speak again. “I am not a living thing.”

Din process this for a moment. _He’s not a living thing._ This gives him the momentary peace he needs—the idea of possibly being able to actually survive with you—and it allows him to let IG-11 completely remove his helmet. Din nearly coughs as he’s exposed to the open air, and he feels his dark gaze widened to at least double its size as he sees IG-11 through his own eyes. He furrows his brow when he sees IG-11’s arm transform into some kind of spritzer, and suddenly a substance is landing on his head.

“This is a bacta spray,” IG-11 explains as Din watches in awe and hesitation. “It will heal you in a matter of hours.”

Din looks down, slowly putting his blaster away as IG-11 does his work. He says nothing, unable to fathom the moment he’s found himself in.

“You have suffered damage to your central processing unit.”

Din finally looks back up at IG-11, his brow raised in confusion. “You mean my brain?”

“That was a joke,” IG-11 assures him awkwardly. “It is meant to put you at ease.”

Din tries to chuckle, instead nearly choking on his need for air as he swallows hard and releases a groan. Slowly yet surely, he starts to feel the bacta healing him like nothing else before—and for the first time since he saw the world go black, he begins to believe he might be able to make it out with you after all.


	20. Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Din reunites with the group, they must navigate their way to safety—and take many losses on the way.

As you walk through the tunnels alongside Cara and Karga, you lift your chin a bit higher in the air. Your heart is aching for the man you just had to leave behind—for the life you know you won’t be able to have anymore, the second loss of a home—but you remember his words clearly in your head: _be s-strong for me,_ cyar’ika. It was his dying wish, and you were sure as hell going to carry it through. The dried tears on your cheeks try to remind you of the pain, but you bury it deep within, thinking of his last words to you over and over as a reassurance.

The child squirms a bit in your arms, as if he can sense the anxiety and tension of the situation. You give his head a pat, laying a small kiss there. “I’m so sorry, _copikla_ ,” you say softly to the child, whose large eyes have now settled upon you. “I should’ve been there for you earlier. I’m going to keep you safe—I promise.”

You feel Cara rest a careful hand on your shoulder, and your head soon turns to face her. She has an expression of strong sympathy, and you try to ignore it, not wanting to think too hard about what you’re leaving behind. “You okay?” Cara asks after a brief pause, as if hesitant to say the words.

You give her a nod. “I’ll get there eventually,” you assure her. “But I shouldn’t have been so weak back there. I should’ve listened to Din, and to you.” You look back down at the child, feeling a pang of guilt run through you. “I put the child at risk.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Cara chastises you in a gentle manner. “That wasn’t easy—at all. I know how much you two care for each other. You were strong in getting yourself to leave him at all.”

You give her a single nod—not so much believing her as wanting to dismiss the topic. All you want to focus on is finding the covert, so they can escort the four of you to safety. You stop yourself when you get to the end of the first tunnel, finding that you can either go left or right. The three of you look in each direction, trying to figure out which turn is right. You close your eyes as you try to remember from the time you’d gone down into the tunnels yourself. “Do you know which way to go?” Karga asks you, and you reopen your eyes to face him.

You draw in a breath and shake your head. “I’m not sure,” you confess. “I was in the Mandalorians’ tunnels once before, but I came in a different way. I’m not sure how to get there from here.”

Cara curses under her breath, and Karga lets out a sigh of his own. You keep looking between the two routes and try to see if either one is more familiar, but your thinking is interrupted when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. Your hand immediately reaches for the blaster Cara had stolen back for you, and you point it with one arm as you guard the child with the other. Cara and Karga do the same, but you only feel your eyes widen as the silhouettes come out of the light.

It’s IG-11, and he’s stayed true to his word: he has Din slung around his shoulder, crutching him towards you. Your knees almost give out in utter relief. _He’s alive. He’s alive!_

“ _Din!_ ” you can’t help exclaiming, and Cara takes the child from you as you hurry to approach him. IG-11 offers Din’s arm to you, and you wrap it around your neck. You can sense Din’s relief, but the sight of his evident weakness is heartbreaking to you. “I thought you were dead, _riduur_. I was _so_ scared.”

“Don’t worry, I’m alive,” Din assures you, though his modulated voice is still weakened as his body recovers.

“Are you okay?” you instantly start to interrogate him. “What did IG do?”

“He used a bacta spray,” Din explains. “It should work over the course of a few hours. I can already feel my strength building.”

You draw in a breath, hesitating before you ask your next question. “Did he…”

“Yes, he had to,” Din answers for you. “But he’s not a living thing.”

You smile slightly at that. “So, your Creed isn’t broken.”

Din gives you a reassuring nod. Your smile grows, and you feel your chest warm up when he gently rests his helmet against the side of your head.

“As much as I love your affectionate reunion, we need guidance,” Cara reminds you, gesturing to the two possible paths. “Mando, do you know which way to go?”

Din heaves a breath, and you try to take more of his weight. “I think… right,” he instructs. “Take the right one.”

The group does as he says, taking a right and continuing down that path. Din continues to guide the group through the other turns, using both his memory and his tracking abilities to do so. At one point, he pauses, trying to take his own weight again. You unwrap your arm from around him as he stands firmly. Din gives you a nod, and you understand what he means. He instead goes on to take your hand—likely just for the sake of reminding yourselves that you haven’t lost each other yet, like you thought you would—and continues his guidance.

When you start to truly recognize where you are inside the tunnels, Din suddenly stops. You freeze beside him, watching as the light of his helmet focuses on something ahead. Your eyes nearly jump out of your head as you spot the large pile of shattered Mandalorian helmets, stacked neatly as if to display some kind of horrible act. Din slowly reaches up to turn his light off, dropping your hand and practically falling to his knees in front of it. You want to comfort him, but also know you have to let him have this moment, and your heart continues to sink deeper into your stomach as you watch him slowly reach for a helmet and observe it with trembling hands.

After a long, tense silence full of watching Din mourn his old family, Cara finally walks up next to Din with caution. You watch her with careful eyes, seeing her peer over Din’s shoulder as she speaks hesitantly. “We should go,” Cara insists in a soft voice.

“You go,” Din chokes out. “Take the ship. I can’t leave it this way.”

You shake your head. Din had already made you leave him once—and you weren’t going to do it again. Before you have a chance to voice this, though, Din continues.

“Did you know about this?” Din seethes in Karga’s direction, and you know you’ve only heard him this angry once: when the gang was hurting you. “Is this the work of your _bounty hunters?_ ”

“No!” Karga assures him, his voice sounding full of shock. “When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended, and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is!” Din looks back at the helmet, and you can sense his anger only growing. Karga looks even more eager to express his innocence to Din as he goes on. “They’re _mercenaries_ , they’re not zealots!”

Din sets the helmet down in a firm yet gentle manner, rising quickly from his knees. “Did you do this?” Din demands roughly, marching in Karga’s direction. He then points an accusing finger into Karga’s chest. “ _Did you?_ ” A chill runs through your spine at Din’s aggressive tone.

“No!” Karga exclaims back with a furrowed brow.

“It was _not_ his fault,” a familiar voice suddenly rings out, and your group looks to see the Mandalorian with the golden helmet you’d met what feels like years ago— _the Armorer_ , you remind yourself. She continues to walk towards the mass of helmets, pulling a hovercart next to her. “We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the covert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter.” The Armorer picks up some of the armor from the pile, observing it and placing it into her cart. “This is what resulted.”

Din stands anxiously for a few moments, shifting between his feet as he stares at the Armorer. You wish you could comfort him, but you decide to stay where you are, not wanting to put him over the edge. “Did any survive?” his modulated voice asks lowly, as if he fears the answer.

“I hope so,” the Armorer answers, continuing to go about her business. “Some may have escaped off-world.”

Din remains silent yet again, looking down at his feet as if he’s gaining the faith to say something. You all stare at him, awaiting his words. He speaks them with sheer hope. “Come with us,” he asks her.

“No,” the Armorer insists, her tone revealing her unwavering opinion on the matter. “I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains.”

You all watch as the Armorer takes her hovercart back into the forgery, unsure of what to do. Din suddenly starts to follow after her, and so you all follow suit, you trailing close behind Din. Almost numbly you see him reach for your hand, and you secure it in your grasp, entwining your fingers with his and giving it a squeeze of comfort. You all gather around as you watch the Armorer set a cuirass into the heater, her visor never leaving her task as she speaks again.

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction,” she instructs, finally looking to Din afterwards.

Din gestures to where the child now rests in IG-11’s arms. “This is the one,” he tells her, and you note the way he’s continued speaking with an evident amount of respect in his tone. You realize that the Armorer must be one of the only parental figures he’s had in his life ever since he was a child. You give his hand another squeeze at the thought.

The Armorer observes the child carefully, her helmet tilted in curiosity. “This is the one that you hunted, then saved?” she questions. The child’s ears droop in a shy manner.

“Yes,” Din confirms with a soft breath. “The one that saved me as well.”

The Armorer looks over at Din, keeping the tilt to her helmet. “From the mudhorn?” she clarifies.

“Yes,” Din answers yet again.

The Armorer looks back to the child, and her sympathy for the foundling becomes evident. “It looks helpless,” she insists, and the child coos nervously in response. Your heart softens as you suddenly yearn to hold him affectionately and make him feel at ease.

“It’s injured, but it is not helpless,” Din assures her, and you wince a bit at the thought of the child being hurt. Din gives your hand a squeeze upon hearing you. “Its species can move objects with its mind.”

The Armorer heads back to her work, giving Din a quick glance before she speaks again. “I know of such things,” she informs him. Din tilts his helmet curiously at her as she elaborates. “The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore The Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.”

Din draws in a breath, and you look up at him to see his helmet stiff with disbelief. “It is an _enemy?_ ” he reflects in an empty voice.

“No,” the Armorer says thoughtfully. “Its kind were enemies, but this individual is not.”

Din watches as the Armorer crosses the room, heading towards more tools. “What is it?” he asks her.

“It is a _foundling_ ,” the Armorer answers simply. She opens a chest of tools, looking through it as she continues. “By Creed, it is in your care.”

The child looks at Din and coos upon hearing that, and you feel your heart warm as you also look up at Din. You can tell he retains mixed feelings of happiness upon gaining official custody over the child, but also fear at his ability to sustain a child under his care. You give his hand a squeeze, reminding him that he won’t be alone in it. “You… wish me to _train_ this thing?” Din questions, and you can now tell that his worries don’t lie in the simple caretaking process—but in the thought of having to train a child with powers he doesn’t wield himself.

“It is too weak,” the Armorer reminds him. “It would die.” You cringe at the thought of the child dying, and see Din do the same thing beside you. “You have no choice. You must reunite it with its own kind.”

Din’s feeling of being overwhelmed is practically spelled out in the air between you, and you shuffle closer to him in an effort to comfort him. He gladly accepts your closer presence. “Where?”

“This, you must determine.” The Armorer pours the liquid metal into a mold as she speaks.

Din’s breath hitches in his throat at her words. “You expect me to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?”

The Armorer pauses what she’s doing to look at Din slowly, her helmet tilted in a decisive manner. “You’re not alone in this, are you?” She gestures towards you, and your cheeks warm up slightly as Din looks down at you. He shakes his head, and the Armorer returns a nod—acknowledging the fact that you’re both going to stick together in the long run. “This is the way.”

Din doesn’t respond to that, allowing the Armorer to turn back to her work as she starts to hammer away at whatever she’s doing. The group looks around at each other in confusion, both for Din’s sake and for the idea of spending too much time standing around. You know the Imps are hot on your trail—and you can feel the fear starting to brew that they’ll be flooding the tunnels before you know it.

Cara becomes the one to speak up on this, walking towards Din and the Armorer with a raised brow. “Hey,” she starts. “These tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at _least_ discuss an escape plan.”

You expect Din to answer, but the Armorer speaks up first. “If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river,” she informs the group. “It flows downstream toward the lava flats.”

The group shares another look, nodding at each other to accept her directions. “We should go,” Karga insists, his voice revealing his anticipation.

“I’m staying,” Din asserts from beside you, and you give him an incredulous look. He can’t bear to look at you, and though you try to drop his hand and step away, he tightens his grip and pulls you closer. You realize he intends on keeping you with him. “I need to help her, and I need to heal.”

“You _must_ go,” the Armorer calls out from where she’s working. “A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind…” she pauses, taking the heated piece of metal in her tongs as she turns to face Din, “… you are as its father.”

You look up Din excitedly, feeling joyful at the news of his official adoption of the child. Even he coos from his place in IG-11’s arms, looking at Din with strong affection. You can see Din giving his son the same look through his visor, and you can’t help raising your free hand to gently stroke the upper part of his arm. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“This is the way,” the Armorer adds with finality. She then nods at Din. “You have earned your signet.” The Armorer brings over a tool and the piece of metal from before, approaching the pauldron on the shoulder you’re not blocking with your body. You remain beside him as you watch her work, sparks flying as she attaches something to his armor. Silence hangs in the air aside from the sounds of her work, and soon, she steps away with satisfaction. “You are a clan of two.” Her visor then looks to you, and her smile is almost visible. “And soon to be three, I suppose.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, wondering how you can be properly inducted into Din’s clan without being a Mandalorian. Din, however, doesn’t question her words, instead looking from the signet to the Armorer with choked up emotion. “Thank you,” he finally says. “I will wear this with honor.”

The moment doesn’t last, as a few sounds of blaster shots are suddenly heard in the distance. Your heads all turn towards the entrance of the forgery, and your hand instinctively reaches for your blaster. You know for sure that the Imps are hot on your trail, now, and your anxiety to get out fast rises quickly.

“We should go,” Karga urges, gesturing towards the tunnels.

“IG, please guard the outer hallway,” the Armorer asks the droid, and he complies without complaint. “A scouting party draws near.”

IG-11 stops to hand the child off to Cara, and she takes a step back, holding the satchel awkwardly. “Hold on,” she warns, watching as the child starts to reach an eager hand towards her. “I don’t do the baby thing.” Her face tightens as the child starts to coo and reach up higher.

As IG heads for the tunnels, the Armorer starts to walk in another direction. “I have one more gift for your journey,” she tells Din, rummaging through some supplies on a nearby table. “Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

“When I was a boy, yes,” Din answers, and you never loosen your grip on his hand as the two of you turn to face her more. Her back’s turned to the both of you as she gathers something in her hands, and your brow lifts in curiosity.

“Then this will make you complete,” the Armorer says as she turns around, holding a jetpack in her gloved grasp.

Your jaw drops a bit in awe at the useful piece of equipment, and you can feel Din bristle with both anticipation and excitement alongside you. Din’s speechless, only able to get out another polite “thank you.”

“When you have healed, you will begin your drills,” the Armorer informs him. “Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”

“I understand,” Din insists with a nod.

Before he can say anything more, the sound of blaster shots soon comes from the tunnels, and everyone turns their heads to see what’s happening. Your hand brushes over your holster as you wait for a group of Imps to come in your direction—but instead, IG’s figure appears, and he stands still as he faces the group. “You are protected,” he assures you.

A visible tension falls from everyone’s shoulders, but the knowledge of more coming hangs in the air. The Armorer, still holding the jetpack, looks at Din with a nod. “More will come,” she states. “You must go.”

You can hear Din swallow hard, and you know he’s reluctant to leave the remaining Mandalorian behind. You tighten your grip on his hand for comfort. “Come with us,” Din begs one last time.

“My place is _here_ ,” the Armorer insists. She then gestures with her helmet to the supplies she’d been sorting through before. “Restock your munitions.” Din nods obediently, releasing your hand to start stocking up on whatever he needs. The Armorer steps towards IG-11, handing him the jetpack. “IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.” She then walks back in your direction, her visor looking at you in a way you can tell is warm. “Thank you for protecting them.”

You smile at her. “I should be thanking them for protecting me,” you retort.

The Armorer shakes her head, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ve sensed the change,” she tells you softly, so that only the two of you can hear your conversation. “I see it within him. You have helped to heal, to strengthen, and to purify and cleanse a soul that needed freedom. I could tell the day you came down here that it was destiny—for the both of you.” You feel a chill at her words, and it even begins to spike your emotions. “There will come a time for you to join Clan Djarin. When that time comes, you’ll know what’s right. It will provide the last phase of eternal security I promised you many moons ago.”

You smile tearfully at her, reaching for both her gloved hands and giving them a squeeze. “Thank you,” you manage through a choked-up throat. “I wish I could fully express my gratitude.”

The Armorer’s own smile is practically audible, though her helmet simply nods at you. “I know.” You release her hands when you see Din approaching, and she turns her helmet to face him. “Now, go. Down to the river and across the plains.” The rest of the group has already started to file out, but you and Din are still stalled in front of the Armorer, with Din’s own anxious tension practically spelled out in the air. You take his hand again, your heart warming when you recognize how desperate he is to accept it. “Be safe on your journey.”

“Thank you,” Din remarks with a polite nod. When he knows there’s nothing else to say to convince her to come with you, he starts to lead you both after the group, his free hand releasing his blaster from his holster. You do the same with your own, staying close to him as you follow the group through the tunnels.

As you walk, you can’t help looking over at him, seeing Din’s visor focused almost coldly on the way ahead. You grimace, successfully swallowing back your emotion from before as you dare to speak. “Din,” you begin softly, feeling relieved when he looks over at you. “Are you okay? I mean, I know physically you’re still waiting for the bacta to kick in, but I know leaving the Armorer was—.”

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” Din interrupts you gently, giving your hand a squeeze. “If I’m being honest, none of this has been easy, but that’s a later thing for me to process. I have to focus on what’s ahead right now.”

You bite your lip, glad that he’s able to push through the trauma he’s experiencing but also dissatisfied with the way he has to do it. “Just remember that I’m here, Din, every step of the way,” you remind him.

Din nods. “I know,” his modulated voice says softly, and he quickly touches the crown of his helmet against your forehead. “That’s what makes it all a little bit easier.”

You manage a smile, wanting to say more but stopping yourself when the eerie flickers of light come into view at the end of the tunnel. The heat of magma starts to make itself evident, and soon the group is fully stepping into a tunnel running with the deadly substance.

“This is the lava river,” Karga points out, and you give him a _you don’t say!_ look from where you and Din walk behind him. There’s a boat that’s waiting alongside the walkway, and you observe it further to see a droid sitting inside—completely unresponsive.

Din’s dropped your hand as he’s walked forward, sighing when he looks at the droid. “The ferry droid is fried,” he says, his visor turning to the group with frustration.

“Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream,” Karga insists, gesturing to the boat that’s still afloat. You stand beside Cara, both of you sharing a look with raised brows as the men converse. “Come on.”

“Looks old,” Din comments, still unsure of Karga’s words. “Will it take the heat?”

Karga looks up at Din sharply. “You got a better idea?”

Din shakes his head in a defeated manner. “Guess not.”

They both go to work trying to push the boat away—but reap no benefit. The amount of time it’s spent sticking to the side of the walkway has caused it to be trapped in place. Still, Karga and Din try their hardest to free it, their chests releasing grunts of effort and frustration as they do so. Eventually, when they realize it won’t work, Din lets out a loud exclamation of frustration and kicks the side of the boat angrily. He starts to reach for something in the corner of the walkway. “Come on!” Karga calls. “What are you doing?”

“Let’s try this,” Din suggests, taking a hold of the long, metal rod he’s found. He hoists it into the crack between the boat and the walkway, starting to press his weight down onto it.

“ _Push!_ ” Karga urges. Din continues to grunt in his effort, trying his best to get the rod to free the boat—but to no avail. You look over at Cara, who’s rocking the child in her arms. She raises an eyebrow in amusement, especially as your eyes point out her gun. Cara nods knowingly, as if she’s just waiting for them to admit their defeat. You give her a nod, and Cara sighs before swinging the gun off from around her shoulder, still balancing the child in one arm.

“You guys mind getting out of the way?” Cara asks, and Karga and Din look to her quickly.

“Oh!” Karga exclaims in understanding, and they scurry back towards where you and IG are standing. Cara then unleashes the gun to the edge of the boat, successfully separating it from the walkway. Din clears his throat from beside you—and you give his shoulder a playful nudge, causing him to shake his head at you. “Good job,” Karga comments. Cara nods, and soon the group’s carefully stepping into the boat.

“Watch your feet, it’s molten lava,” IG-11 warns you all. You chuckle to yourself at the obvious comment.

“No kidding,” Cara mutters, and you hold back another laugh.

Suddenly, as the boat starts to move downstream, you hear beeping and whirring coming from behind you. Everyone whips around, pointing your blasters as the droid that’s now beginning to come to life. You watch with awe as it suddenly reaches for the rod Din had been handling earlier, and it rises on long legs you didn’t know existed. After it’s fully stood up, it starts to beep as if communicating, and Din looks around at the group.

“I don’t suppose anybody here speaks droid?” Din says, still pointing his blaster at the droid. You have to keep yourself from laughing once again, looking over at IG-11—who’s standing there and waiting to properly provide an answer.

“I believe he is asking where we would like to go,” IG informs the group, and you watch as Din nods slowly.

“Down river, to the lava flat,” Karga tells the droid, looking at it uneasily.

The droid chirps and starts to row the rod through the lava slowly, as if used to the dull routine. Everyone lowers their blasters upon ridding of a potential threat, turning back to the way further downstream. Silence persists as you all stand and wait, and your eyes go to your surroundings. You watch as lava rats make their way around the edges of the tunnel, paying no mind to the deadly substance that licks at their feet. The edges of the tunnel are grimy with old age and cooled magma, and you feel yourself breathing in the ashy remnants of what flakes from the ceiling. Din remains close at your side, appearing to do the same thing. Cara continues to hold the child, and you watch as he stares up at her with affection. A small smile tugs at your lips—though you know this is just a brief moment of piece in the middle of a violent storm.

Suddenly, a light appears at the end of your vision, and you squint to see the end of the tunnel. Karga must’ve noticed the same thing, because soon he’s exclaiming, “That’s it! We’re free!”

You start to smile in relief, but stall when you see Din make his way closer to the edge of the boat. His fingers press against something on his vambrace, and you realize he’s detecting something that the rest of you can’t see. Your heart starts to thud in your chest as he shakes his head slowly. “No,” Din’s voice insists lowly. “No, we’re not.” He lets out a struggled breath, and you move to stand alongside him once again. “Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel.” He pauses again, as if further observing. “It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.”

Cara shifts nervously behind you both. “Stop the boat,” she calls out, turning around to face the droid who continues to row. “Hey, droid, I said stop the boat.” The droid chirps but doesn’t stop. Cara’s brow furrows angrily and she steps closer to it. “Hey! I’m talking to you. I said _stop!_ ” She points a blaster up at it, but in the heat of the moment, she ends up pulling the trigger on its head. The droid explodes into pieces with brilliant sparks. The child whimpers at the loud disturbance, and Cara immediately puts her blaster back to focus on rocking him in comfort.

“We’re still moving,” Karga observes, and you feel a chill upon realizing the same thing yourself.

“Looks like we fight,” Cara resigns, preparing her weapons again.

“There are too many,” Din insists heavily.

“Then what do you suggest?” Cara counters, her mixed frustration and fear evident. “‘Cause I can’t surrender.”

“We must have a decent shot at it,” you chime in, feeling your heart sink when Din’s helmet gives you a discouraging look.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child,” IG-11 remarks, calling everyone’s attention. “This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”

“You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal,” Din tells him shortly, giving his helmet a shake as he tries to dismiss the idea altogether. “You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

“That is not my objective,” IG-11 insists. You feel a pit grow in your stomach at his words, especially as Din turns around to look at the droid with concern.

“We’re getting close,” Cara says, handing the child off to IG and securing her weapons. “Saddle up.”

“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer,” IG tells Din, and you watch as he completely faces the droid now. “If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

“What’re you talking about?” Din questions warily, walking closer over to IG. You keep watching from a distance, seeing the tension in Din’s shoulders as he stands there.

“I am not permitted to be captured,” IG answers simply. “I must be destroyed.”

“Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?” Karga asks with annoyance, and you shoot him a quick look that begs for some kind of patience.

“Let IG speak,” you command softly, placing your gaze back on Din and IG as they continue their conversation.

“I can no longer carry this for you,” IG tells Din, setting the jet pack onto a nearby vacant seat. You see Din watch him numbly, as if he’s in denial of IG’s words. “Nor can I watch over the child.” IG hands the child to Din, who accepts him affectionately yet gingerly.

Din looks up at IG, and you know him well enough to know that his emotions are rising as he speaks again. “Wait, you can’t self-destruct,” Din insists, his modulated voice strained. “Your base command is to watch the child. That supersedes your manufacturer’s protocol, right?” When there’s a pause, Din’s eager to speak again. “ _Right?_ ”

“This is correct,” IG-11 confirms.

“Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.” Din starts to turn away, but stops when IG-11 speaks again.

“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive.”

“Listen, you’re not going _anywhere_ ,” Din insists, his voice getting shakier. You yearn to reach out and comfort him, but hold your place for the moment. “We need you. Let’s just come up with a—.”

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care,” IG cuts him off, not moving on the issue. “If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

“But you’ll be destroyed.”

“And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.”

Din’s helmet falls for a moment, and you can feel your own emotion welling up at his obvious distress. He gains the faith to look back up, but his words are very weak. “No. We _need_ you.”

“There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.”

“I’m not… sad.” _Typical Din._

“Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.” IG then reaches forward to stroke a mechanical hand against the child’s ear affectionately, and he coos up at him. Your heart aches, realizing the bond that’s grown between your family and the droid. They might’ve both saved each other, but they had also been saved by this droid—who’s now about to pay the ultimate price. He soon walks away and starts to step over the side of the boat, and you watch in horror as you realize what he’s about to do.

“IG?” Karga calls, watching as the droid starts to wade in the lava. “What’re you doing?”

As IG continues to walk forward, you see Din come back up alongside you, and this time he’s the one to eagerly seek out your hand for comfort first. You give it a strong squeeze, also wrapping your hand around his upper arm as you keep him close. IG continues to make his way closer to the mouth of the tunnel, limping as his legs start to give way to the molten lava melting them. Soon, he’s completely exposed to the outside, the troopers flanking him all pointing blasters in his direction.

“Manufacturer’s protocol dictates I cannot be captured,” IG’s voice says, a bit distorted from the overheating of his system. “I must be destroyed.”

Din gives your hand a tight squeeze, and before you can process it, a large cloud of fire and smoke pulsates out from the mouth of the tunnel. Immediately, you look over at Din, checking to see how he’s doing. You nearly gasp when you realize that the light from the explosion has caused just a small sliver of his visor to become transparent, and you can see the outline of one of his eyes staring at the scene ahead—and your heart aches upon seeing how it’s widened to at least double its size in horror. You continue to return his tight grip, wishing more than anything you could take the pain away from him.

Soon, the boat wades through the mouth of the tunnel, and the smoke thins enough for you to see that the entire platoon of stormtroopers has been dealt with. Their bodies lay steaming on the ground surrounding you, but there’s still a hint of danger in the air—as if you’re not completely in the clear yet. When the roaring of a TIE fighter sounds from the distance, you have your answer.

“Moff Gideon!” Cara exclaims, and you drop Din’s arm to instead point your blaster at the incoming fighter. The rest of the group does the same, releasing shots as he tries to do the same to you. The earth shakes at the impact of the TIE figher’s blows, but they all miss. Gideon flies away, freeing you—for the moment. You turn to see the child looking around in confusion, and you pet his head comfortingly.

“He missed!” Karga states with relief.

“He won’t next time,” Din mutters, as if carefully considering your next move.

“Our blasters are useless against him,” Cara says, lowering hers with concern.

“There has to be another way,” you insist, looking over at Din to see what he’s thinking. He simply continues to look off into the sky.

“Hey, let’s make the baby do the magic hand thing,” Karga suggests, gesturing to the child. You raise a quizzical eyebrow at him, watching as he catches the child’s attention. “C’mon, baby! Do the magic hand thing!” Karga offers a wave of his fingers for demonstration. The child coos curiously as he mocks Karga’s hands movements—but fails to wield his usual energy. Karga lets out a sigh. “I’m out of ideas.”

“I’m not,” Din states firmly, putting his blaster back in his holster.

“Din, what’re you doing?” you question with strong concern, watching as he begins to reach for his jetpack. You move to stop him, placing your hands over his. “The Armorer said you have to train with it first, it won’t listen to you! It’s too danger—.”

“ _Cyar’ika_ , you _have_ to trust me,” Din insists, resting one of his gloved hands on your upper arm.

The sound of the TIE fighter soon arrives from further in the distance. “Here he comes!” Cara announces, preparing her arms.

You give Din a nod, freeing him so that he can swing the jetpack over his shoulders. He hooks it into place, watching for Moff Gideon’s full arrival. You look at him nervously, biting your lip before stepping closer to him. His helmet turns to you for a brief moment.

“I love you,” you whisper, trying to search the gaze you know lies behind the visor.

“I know,” Din remarks, his modulated voice warm as he presses a button on his vambrace—setting off the jets of the pack. His helmet looks back up to the incoming TIE fighter, and within moments, he’s releasing himself high into the air. You hold your breath as you watch the TIE fighter just miss him, stalling a bit as Din shoots out his cable and attaches it to the ship. Soon, he’s pulled out along with it, and you can feel your heart drumming against your chest at a mile a minute.

Suddenly, you hear nearby blaster fire, and you spin around quickly to see a small group of stormtroopers creeping out from behind the shadows. “We didn’t get all of them!” you inform your group, reaching for your blaster as you begin to fire. Cara and Karga do the same, but you’re too far out of range. Remembering who’s risking their live high above you, your chest puffs up with determination, and you narrow your eyes as you move towards the edge of the boat. “I’ve got it!” you call to Karga and Cara before you leap from the boat to the nearby shore.

The stormtroopers try shooting as you hop over limp bodies. You pick up one of their blasters without missing a beat, satisfied to see that it wasn’t fried by the explosion. The five troopers fall back a few steps at your fiery approach, and when you aim to shoot, you already take down two of them. The distance closes and soon you’re in contact with one of the three, wringing your arm around their clothed neck as you swing and land with their body shielding your front. You use them to block the other troopers’ bolts, firing with your free hand at them. You manage to get one of them, but the other fires a shot that just barely singes the top of your unprotected shoulder, and you curse to yourself as you let the now-dead trooper fall from your arms. Quickly, you recover, making it just in time to dodge a blaster bolt and punch their weapon out of their hand. You then kick your leg up to punch their middle, sending them sprawling on the ground as you finish them off with your blaster.

Your chest heaves from your effort as you look up, watching as the TIE fighter still flies Din around. Your worry for him continues as you meet the group back where they’ve surfaced from the boat, seeing Din’s struggle with Gideon. Suddenly, Din’s body begins to drift away from the TIE fighter, and you watch as an explosion goes off on the ship. It spirals out of control and crashes somewhere much further away, and once you see Din manage to roughly yet safely land, you can’t help feeling the emotions beginning to swell inside your chest.

A smile breaks out on your lips as you approach Din with the rest of the group, unable to fathom the idea of some kind of freedom. The past few hours have been like hell for you, and you weren’t sure you were actually ever going to make it out alive—especially with Din. Now, here you are, watching his living and breathing form meeting your own.

“That was impressive, Mando!” Karga calls to Din. “Very impressive.” Once the distance closes, Karga starts to smile a bit. “It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up.”

Din shrugs a bit, looking off beyond your group. “Any more stormtroopers?” he questions warily.

“She got the last of them,” Cara says, gesturing towards you. Din’s helmet immediately looks over at you, and you can feel his gaze searching you for wounds. His hands gently touch your arms, pulling you closer to his side.

“You’re all right?” Din asks softly, and you give him a reassuring nod. You hope he doesn’t notice the small burn on your shoulder from the one stormtrooper’s blast.

“And you’re okay?” you retort, trying to see if he hurt himself during the TIE fighter action. Din gives you a nod—and you pray to the Maker that he’s telling the truth. “I think we’ve had enough action for the day.”

“I think we cleaned up the town,” Cara adds, smiling at Din before she continues. “I’m thinking of staying around just to be sure.” The child coos from where he is in Cara’s arms, as if questioning her words himself.

Din bristles beside you with disbelief, and you can feel the same thing as you look at Cara with a raised brow. “You’re staying here?” Din asks in a puzzled manner.

“Well, why not?” Karga chimes in as Cara puts the child onto the ground. “Nevarro is a very fine planet. And now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it’s very respectable again.”

Din holds back a scoff. “As a bounty hunter hive?” he jokes.

Karga pretends to look offended, rapping his fingers lightly against Din’s pauldron as he speaks. “Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters,” Karga reminds him. He then looks over to Cara. “And perhaps, this specimen of soldier might consider joining our ranks.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some clerical concerns regarding my chain code,” Cara answers—but your eyes have now fallen to the green blur moving in your peripherals. You watch as the child waddles closer and closer to Din, only stopping once he reaches Din’s leg. Your heart practically melts in your chest as you watch him hug his little arms around Din’s leg, cooing up at him in the most affectionate manner you’ve heard from him yet. Din’s helmet looks down at him warmly, and you feel your heart soar at the sight of your family’s adorable interaction.

Your ears tune back in when Karga addresses Din, also catching his attention. “But you, my friend, will be welcome back into the Guild with open arms,” Karga assures Din earnestly. “So, go off, enjoy yourself—and when you’re ready to return, you will have the pick of all quarries.”

Din doesn’t answer immediately, instead looking back down at the child. You follow his gaze, seeing the child still standing there with his tiny chin resting against Din’s leg. Din leans down to pick up the child, holding him carefully in his arms as the child coos warmly. Once he’s secure there, Din also huddles closer to your side, until the cloth of his arm is brushing against your own. You wrap both your arms around his free one, leaning your head against it as you look up at him affectionately. His helmet does the same back to you.

“I’m afraid I have more pressing matters at hand,” Din informs Karga, finally looking back at his old boss.

Cara sighs lightly as she steps forward to pet the child’s ear, smiling as he coos up at her. She then looks to Din. “Take care of this little one,” Cara urges him gently. Her gaze shifts to you. “And her, too.”

“Or maybe… they’ll take care of _you_ ,” Karga retorts, looking at Din with a raised brow.

You chuckle softly, and you look back up at Din to see his helmet already turned in your direction. He lets out a breath, and you realize that this truly is goodbye. You’re surprised when his helmet comes down to meet your head in the close presence of your friends, his affection evident as he speaks. “Are you ready to go home?” Din asks you in a soft voice, striking you directly in the heart.

You bite back a smile and nod up at him. “More than ever,” you assure him. You give Cara and Karga one last wave as you walk with Din away from the group. He hands the child to you, and you hold him tightly in your arms as Din wraps his own around your middle.

“I’ve got you, all right?” Din tells you, and you nod as he fires up his jetpack again. Soon, you’re taking off through the air, your body pinned against Din’s to keep you secure.

You know there’s been a lot of sacrifice to get to this point—good people lost, pain you endured, destruction following practically everywhere. But you also know you wouldn’t give the entire galaxy for this very moment, heading off to create the home with the man you love and the child you adore, swearing that you’ve never felt so sure, certain, and secure before.


	21. The Riduurok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With all perceived threats gone, Din and the princess adjust to their new normal, getting closer than they ever have before.

Din can’t think straight as he flies you and the child back to the _Razor Crest_. He’s been through too much in the past few hours to make a coherent thought. He still can’t even believe he’s getting the ending he wanted. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go—not for someone like him. All he can do is pull you a little tighter to him, relishing in the excited coos of the child in your arms as he focuses on getting you back safely.

Still, there’s a single thought that makes its way back to the forefront of his mind over and over again. He can hear the Armorer’s words as if they’ve just been spoken, sparking an ambitious fire inside of his chest: _a clan of three_. Din knows exactly what the Armorer was telling him to do—and he’s known that he must do it for quite some time now. He needs to secure your place in his life. He needs to officially adopt you into his clan. He needs to marry you.

Din doesn’t know how the hell he’s going to do it—or if you’ll even want to at all—but he _has_ to say those vows with you. He’s already run the risk of losing you, and he can’t do it again. If this experience has taught him anything, it’s that he can’t live without you or the child. Not since he’s known what it’s like to have you both. Not since he realized that his true purpose is to keep you two safe and happy as long as he lives. Din always wondered why he was trained for a life of fighting, asking the Maker why he—of all people—came to be known as the best hunter in the parsec, one of the best warriors in the galaxy. Now, he’s sure he knows why. It’s been training him to learn how to keep the two of you safe, at all costs. It was preparing him to protect his family. To Din, it’s no coincidence that the two people who have thawed his cold heart have been targeted by dangerous people. He was made to love and protect you both with everything he has.

And so, he will.

Din pushes these thoughts aside when he spots the _Crest_ , landing as gracefully as he can manage to get you all on the ground safely. He feels a sharp pain in his chest when he comes upon the body of Kuiil, his form curled up and the comlink laying just a few feet away. His helmet hasn’t stopped looking ever since he landed, and it only looks away when he feels a hand on his pauldron. Din turns to see you, your expression full of sympathy and shared grief as you watch him mourn his friend.

“Take the time you need, Din,” you urge him softly, your voice alone sounding like the warm embrace Din needs right now. “I’ll take him to the ship.” You pause, gently reaching your free hand up to the back of his helmet as you press your forehead against his. “I’m so sorry for all your losses, _riduur_. I’m here for you.”

Din smiles beneath the helmet, wishing you could see it—and hoping you’ll see it soon enough. “I know,” he murmurs, soaking in the way your eyes shine so lovingly at him. He watches as you pull away and walk with the child over to the _Crest_ , and he uses his vambrace to open the hatch for you. When Din turns back to Kuiil, he feels the heaviness of the day fully weigh upon him, especially in your temporary absence.

Kuiil had been an unexpected friend who’d helped Din without hesitation in everything he asked of him. He refused payment because he worked out of the sheer kindness of his heart. Din knows that this reaps an honorable burial, one more proper than what the Imps left behind. He instantly sets to work, ignoring the weakness of his recovering body as he hoists stones into his arms and brings them over to Kuiil’s body. Once he’s obtained enough stones, he gently reaches down to slide Kuiil’s cap off of him, setting it aside and beginning to stack the stones around him.

While he works, Din reflects on his other losses. Seeing his covert’s pieces of armors broken and alone on the floor of the tunnel brought a feeling to Din he’d only felt once before—when Xi’an had cut your face. Din felt angry, helpless, and utterly guilty for their fate. It was _his_ fault the covert had revealed himself, _his_ fault that the Imps were able to track them, _his_ fault that they had to either reveal themselves or die. The people who had taken him in when he was so young, who had been so patient in training him, who had given him a way to live when he thought he couldn’t go on—they were gone.

And then there was the one who saved his life. Din had never thought he’d be capable of growing as close to a droid as he had with IG-11. He had killed him once before and expected to get the same treatment in return when he was at his most vulnerable state. Instead, IG soothed him—and _saved_ him. Had it not been for the droid, Din would’ve died. He wouldn’t have gotten his life with you and the child. He wouldn’t have gotten to return to the _Crest_ and find his home with you. He would’ve been ash on the floor of the cantina, left to be a memory that most frowned upon. IG gave him another chance at life, no matter how cruelly Din treated him. And then he did it all over again at the cost of his own life. IG had told Din that he wasn’t a living thing, that he had never lived, but Din’s convinced that IG-11 led one of the most heroic lives he’s ever heard of.

Din lets out a strangled sigh as he places Kuiil’s cap on top of the grave. He lets his arms fall weakly to his sides, staring at the small grave with heaviness in his heart. Death is a natural part of life, one that Din’s both caused and almost experienced, but it’s still never easy for him to come to terms with. It’s as if every trauma he’s buried down from his kills have come back to haunt him with these personal deaths, leaving a sting that feels incapable of being healed. But then he turns around, and he sees you standing on the ramp of the hatch with a gaze he knows is full of care and concern, and he thinks that maybe—just maybe—everything _will_ be okay.

As the distance closes between the two of you, you can feel your heart hurting at the dejected way Din’s shoulders hang, full of physical and emotional exhaustion. Once he’s in hearing range, you dare to speak, keeping your voice gentle and comforting. “That’s a beautiful tribute, Din,” you tell him.

“I wish I could do more,” Din confesses, his modulated voice strained. It tugs on your heart strings even more. “For all of them.”

“I know,” you sigh, reaching out to take a hold on his arm as you walk up the rest of the ramp with him. “But they all went in such honorable ways—protecting the innocent. That’s comforting enough.”

Din nods once, not saying anything as he stops to close the hatch. You follow him up to the cockpit, landing yourself in the passenger seat as he sits in his own. Before he can do anything else, he freezes, slowly spinning back around to face you. “Where’s the kid?” Din asks, almost panicked—but also knowing you wouldn’t have let anything happen to him.

“He’s asleep,” you tell him. “In his quarters. He passed out almost as soon as I started rocking him.”

“I don’t blame him,” Din comments, turning back around to work on taking off. “The kid’s been through a lot today.”

“We all have,” you add lowly, and you see Din nod as he brings the _Crest_ to life.

He pauses to turn his helmet back at you, and immediately you sense his concern. “Are you okay?”

You nod reassuringly. “I’m all right, Din. I’m just… _so_ grateful to be right where I am, right now.”

Din keeps looking at you as he responds. “So am I, _cyar’ika_.” He then looks back to the dashboard, punching the controls as he zooms the _Crest_ off of Nevarro. You have no idea where he plans on going—you truly don’t even care that much, right now—but soon the _Crest’s_ locked into hyperspace, and Din’s standing up again. You do the same, walking over to him and holding both of his gloved hands in yours.

You give Din a small yet affectionate smile, watching as his helmet tilts ever so slightly down at you. “We made it, Din. We’re here— _together_ —without any threats trailing us.”

Din’s smile is practically audible, especially as he pulls you completely into his arms so that your cheek is resting against his cuirass. You close your eyes and relish in the feeling, listening to his breathing and observing the presence of such life in him. “I’ll do everything I can to keep it this way, _cyare_. Promise.”

Your smile grows, and you go to say something affectionate in return when you realize your cheek is now wearing the grime of Din’s armor. You chuckle a bit, lifting your face from him to reveal the dirt that now streaks across your cheek. “We need to get your armor cleaned,” you tell him with a laugh, your heart soaring when you hear him chuckle through his modulator. Your smile starts to fade and your brow lifts upon realizing that Din has cuts he likely has to tend to as well—things that the bacta spray can’t heal completely on its own. “And we need to get _you_ cleaned up as well. C’mon, let’s go.” You step away from him but keep a firm grasp on one of his hands, leading him back down to the hull. You encourage him to go into your quarters as you reach for the medical supplies, soon joining Din inside.

Din’s already stripped himself of his armor, leaving it in a neat pile as he sits on the edge of the cot. You grimace at the sight of the new tears and holes of his clothing, hoping that he has some extras laying around. You set the supplies in front of him, only kneeling down as you prepare to give him the privacy he needs to tend to his face. “Do you have extra clothing—to replace this?” you ask, running a hand over one of the new holes. Din gives you a nod, his helmet reflecting your concerned image as you allow yourself to relax a bit. You give him a small smile. “Perfect. I’ll try to find it while you tend to your face, then.” You stand up to walk out but feel surprised when Din takes a hold on your arm, stopping you from going anywhere. You look to see him tensed up, as if he’s trying to say something but is willing the strength to get it out.

“I… _cyar’ika_ , will you help me?” Din’s modulated voice sounds smaller than you’ve ever heard it, as if he’s fearing your rejection.

You freeze, already beginning to shake your head at the prospect of what he must do in order to make that happen. “Din… you know I can’t—.”

“A clan of three,” Din suddenly cuts you off, his tone revealing his high-strung nerves but also his firm purpose. “Do you remember the Armorer saying that?”

Your heart begins to drum harder against your chest as you nod, searching his visor as if you can see his gaze. You wonder if the things the Armorer had said to you are already beginning to happen.

“She… she knows you must be a part of my clan. Clan Djarin.” Din pauses, taking a breath and waiting to see if you say anything. When you don’t, he continues, his gloveless hands falling on your cheeks as he finishes. “In order to join my clan, you must marry me.”

Your eyes widen at his words. _Marry? Is Din asking me to marry him?_ Shock and strong affection fill you, hitting you like a tidal wave as you struggle to speak. “I—marry?”

“Yes,” Din answers, and you can sense the new shakiness in his voice. _He’s nervous. He_ must _be about to ask me._ “Once we were married, you could see my face without the helmet, and it wouldn’t break the Creed—since you’d become an extension of myself.”

Your heart soars in full realization. “Din… are you asking me to—?”

“ _Cyar’ika_ , please make my clan a clan of three,” Din stops you, wanting to do the honor himself—no matter how shaky his voice is, now. “I’ve realized that my purpose is to be with you, to protect you and take care of you and the child. I can’t lose you—I came too close to that today, and I can’t fathom the thought of it. I love you—so much that it scares me—and I… I want you to stay. I want you to be with _me_. All of me.” Din pauses in the middle of his nervous ramble to brush his thumbs over your cheeks, forcing himself to slow down as he says the next words with certainty. “I want you to marry me.”

Your eyes have filled with tears at the way Din’s spilled his heart out to you, and at the idea of pledging yourself to live alongside him forever, you feel even more spring forth. The corner of your lips tug up in a large smile, and you hope Din’s are doing the same as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears that have managed to fight their way onto your cheeks. “I would be honored, Din,” you answer, your voice only managing to make it just above a whisper in your emotion. You clear your throat, trying to make more room to speak. “The Armorer told me that this was our destiny—to be together. I need it just as much as you do.” You pause, widening your smile as you look directly into his visor. “I love you, too.”

Din leans his helmet earnestly against your forehead, and you close your eyes at the affectionate touch—realizing that, as soon as your marriage is said and done, you can experience a much more intimate touch. He doesn’t pull away as he continues, his modulated voice thick with emotion. “All we have to do is exchange a vow, _cyar’ika_. Once we do that, it ties us into a lifelong bond—our _riduurok_.”

You reopen your eyes, looking into Din’s visor with a raised brow. “It’s that simple?”

Din nods. “Which means we can do it right now—if you want to.”

Your smile grows. “I would love nothing more, Din.”

Din gives you a nod, and he moves back on the cot so that he’s sitting on his knees. You move to do the same in front of him, and he offers his hands for you to take in yours. “It’s Mando’a, so you can repeat after me,” Din tells you softly, and you nod in response, waiting for his cue. You hear him take a deep breath, and soon, he says the first few words. “We are one when together. _Mhi solus tome_.”

“ _Mhi solus tome_.”

“We are one when parted. _Mhi solus dar'tome_.”

“ _Mhi solus dar'tome_.”

“We share all. _Mhi me'dinui an._ ”

“ _Mhi me'dinui an_.”

“We will raise warriors. _Mhi ba'juri verde._ ”

“ _Mhi ba'juri verde_.”

Din, unable to resist anymore, brings his helmet back to your forehead, letting you close your eyes as a few more tears of joy roll down your cheeks. He keeps your hands together, giving them a squeeze as you sit in peaceful silence. “ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_ , _riduur_ ,” he whispers through thick emotion, which is still evident even through his modulator. “I promise. I always will.”

“I know,” you assure him, reopening your eyes to meet the blurry image of his visor. “ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_.” You then pause for a moment, a smile beginning to grow as you look at Din. “You said that _riduur_ basically meant I was yours, and that you were mine. What does it actually mean?”

You picture Din’s smile as he gives your hands another squeeze. “It means partner, or spouse,” Din tells you gently. “Wife or husband.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “So, you’ve been calling me your wife for quite some time now, huh?”

“And you’ve been calling me your husband, so we’re even.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you lean away from him. You lift his knuckles to your lips, leaving a gentle kiss on them before letting them fall into your lap. “I’m so inexplicably happy to be your _riduur_ , Din. But I’m also eager to get your wounds taken care of.”

Din nods in understanding, and you feel his fingers soon untangle from yours. It suddenly feels as if your breath’s caught in your throat, and your heart begins beating at an alarmingly quick pace. You watch as he slowly brings his hands to the sides of his helmet—and you feel a pang in your heart upon realizing how much they’re trembling. You can tell Din is extremely nervous to reveal his face to you, and so you stop him for a quick moment, placing your hands against his chest.

“Don’t worry, Din,” you tell him softly, looking into his visor with a firm gaze. “No matter what I see underneath this helmet, I know you’re the man I love. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Din nods, the movement barely noticeable with how small it is. You leave your hands there as his begin to have a tighter grip on the sides of his helmet. Soon, you’re watching as the helmet lifts higher and higher, your breath leaving your lungs more and more with each inch it rises—right up until you realize your eyes are no longer looking into an empty visor, but into a gaze full of warmth, fear, and _love_. Your lungs fail you as your jaw falls open.

His face is like he’d once said, scarred—but now, full of cuts from the events of the day. But you could care less about that. You’re focused on the mud-colored eyes that study the image of your face without their usual barrier. The brow that’s furrowed in his fear of what you might think. The nose with the sharp hook of a hawk but the gentleness of a dove. The whiskers of his chin and upper lip left untrimmed yet also tamed. The fullness of his lips that tremble before you. You’re in awe of everything he is—everything you’ve dreamed of, but more, _better_. It’s real. He’s real. And you can finally match a face to your heart.

“Din,” your voice manages, though you can barely make the sound. Your hands gently meet the sides of his face, and you hear Din breath in sharply at the intimate touch. He relaxes beneath your hands, his gaze settling in yours as you smile at him with glossy eyes. “You’re _beautiful_.”

Din knows you’re not lying—you can tell that he hears the sheer honesty in your voice and sees the pure admiration in your gaze. You’re amazed at the way his tearful eyes sparkle in disbelief, as if he holds the entire galaxy inside of them. You feel your heart tug in every direction as his lips tremble more, and a few tears escape his eyes as he stares in awe back at you. Your thumbs wipe them away in a vain effort, since he’s soon pulling you against him as he buries his face in your shoulder. His body heaves with sobs of heavy emotion—you assume it’s a mixture of relief, joy, and love. You close your eyes and run your hand over his back, feeling a few more of your own tears fall at the amazement of the moment.

Once Din relaxes, he pulls himself away from you, resting his forehead against yours in a familiar manner—but without the cold feeling of beskar. Instead, you feel the warmth of all the life in him, and your gaze gets to meet his and see all the emotion he holds within it. “Thank you, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din says, and the sound of his unfiltered voice sends a shockwave throughout your entire body. “You have no idea… how much you mean to me.” Din has to pause between his words in order to catch his breath and contain his emotion. He cradles your face in his hands, staring down at you as if you’re the most precious creature he’s ever seen. It melts your heart even more. “I love you, _riduur_.”

Your smile softens as you lean closer to him, letting your nose and lips brush ever so softly over his own. You hear the quiet inhale he takes at the sensation, and you bite your lip to keep your smile from growing again. “I love you too, _riduur_.” After whispering the words, you look into his eyes, allowing him to make the move you’ve both been waiting so long for.

Din closes the gap between you, his soft lips covering your own. Your heart stops momentarily at the feeling—as if you’ve finally come upon the oasis in the driest of deserts—and you move at his slow and passionate pace. You absorb every moment, every movement, taking in the taste and the feeling of _him_ , telling yourself that it was worth every minute of waiting to feel this kind of pleasure and affection. Your hands come to the back of Din’s neck as he pulls away momentarily, his gaze burning into yours as a brilliant smile spreads on his lips. Your heart flutters at the sight of it, and you smile back before pulling him back to you. Your hands thread through his matted yet soft hair, earning a surprised and pleasurable sigh from Din that he releases against your lips. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you as close to him as he can manage. They begin to roam your sides and your back, admiring the way you feel when you’re connected with him in this way. When you’ve both lost the air you need to breathe, you pull away, staying close as your gazes never leave each other’s. You say nothing for a long moment, simply listening to each other’s breathing and watching your smiles grow.

“Wow,” Din breathes, chuckling lightly as he runs one hand over your cheek. “That… that was worth every minute of waiting.”

“And you can have as many as you want, _riduur_ ,” you assure him, cupping his cheek in your hand and watching as he leans into it affectionately. “As soon as we clean you up.”

Din lets out another chuckle, the sound causing a pleasant shiver to run through you. He lets his hands fall into his lap as you reach for the medical supplies, getting to work on his face. Din’s dark gaze simply watches you as you tend to the scratches there, cleaning the blood and placing bacta patches where necessary. Your hand holds one of his as you work, both as comfort and as a way to stay connected to him. Once you’ve finished, you put the supplies away, looking back to see the sparkle in his eyes.

“You should use the fresher,” you urge him softly, raking your free hand gently through his dirty and even bloodied hair. Din’s eyelids flutter closed at the sensation, and you smile to yourself as you try to neaten the way the helmet’s shaped his hair. When you pull your hand away, his eyes reopen, and he gives you a nod.

Din suddenly hesitates, searching your gaze with his own. You see a longing there—a vulnerability you wouldn’t have expected from him. It’s as if he doesn’t want to leave you, not even for a moment, and so his question doesn’t even shock you as much as it should. “Can you… will you join me?” His voice is soft, even through its deep reverberations that you’re still getting used to without the modulator.

You give him a nod. “Of course, Din.” You see him smile a bit, and your heart still flutters intensely upon noticing it. You stand up and help him to do the same, starting to lead him in the direction of his fresher. You put the medical supplies away before getting there, slipping past the first curtain to find yourselves in the small space between the fresher and the rest of the ship. Together—in a way that oddly doesn’t feel uncomfortable—your strip yourselves of everything except the skin of your backs, taking each other’s hands again as you step past the second curtain. Din turns the water on, and soon, it’s falling over both yours forms, cleansing you as one.

Inside, you both stay close, absorbing the feeling of being so vulnerable to each other after so much time spent waiting and wondering if you’d ever get the chance to feel something like this. You help to cleanse him, and Din tries to do the same—but he gets afraid and tells you he’s worried he’ll hurt you somehow. His hands have blood on them, he insists, but you shake your head. He’s redeemed himself, freed himself from the vicious past life he led. Din tries to believe you, but until he can, you take care of the task yourself, feeling satisfied once you and Din are finally clean.

Din offers you each a towel once you step outside again, returning to the peace of your quarters as Din closes the door behind you. You let out a soft sigh as your hands run through your damp hair, and you turn around to see Din still facing the door in deep contemplation. His brow is slightly furrowed, and his dark gaze is full of conflict. You raise an eyebrow, taking a step towards him.

“Din?” you ask gently, seeing him turn around to face you. “Are you okay?”

Din takes a deep breath, his scarred chest rising and falling as he comes closer to you. “ _Cyar’ika_ ,” Din begins, his voice low yet soft. He continues approaching you, his dark gaze embedding itself in yours as it sparkles with strong affection and desire. “I… I want to show you—show you, _prove_ to you, how much I love you.” One of his hands rises to cup your cheek, and you lean into the touch while continuing to look in his eyes. You can’t get enough of it. “I’ve never been the best with words. But now… now I have the chance to show you with my actions. Is that… okay?”

You know what he’s referring to. You know because you want the same thing—you want to feel his love in a way you haven’t yet. So, you nod at him, letting a small smile start to grow as you do so. “I want that too, Din,” you assure him in a hushed whisper, leaning up until your lips are ghosting over his again. You make a point to look deep in his eyes, letting one of your hands run over the bare skin above his heart. It drums against the palm of your hand. “Show me.”

Din doesn’t hesitate to take you up on your words. His lips crash against yours in a manner much different than before, this time hungrier and fuller of the passion that’s grown between you ever since the moment you first joined his crew. In the heat of desire, you find the towels discarded in exchange for the feeling of the cot against your back, leaving you under Din’s hovering figure as he continues to kiss you as if his life depends on it. His hands roam your body like it’s a precious gem, a fragile vase that could break beneath his fingertips. Your hands run over his bare torso, studying the muscles that flex beneath you—evidence of the way his body’s been trained for difficult work, work that’s much harder than the soft man he truly is behind it all. You both exchange pleasant sighs into each other’s mouths, unable to fathom the way you’re feeling as you begin to connect in the way you’ve been yearning much too long for.

Din only separates from you for a longer moment to watch as his hands explore you. It’s nothing short of admiration as his calloused fingers glide along your heated skin, sending endless shivers through you that have you practically wincing for more of a similar feeling. They run over every hill and dip into every valley, his gaze flickering over it all and only sparkling more and more with every inch he sees and feels. “ _Gar bid mesh'la_ ,” Din whispers in a tone so soft that you barely catch it. _You’re so beautiful._ It still makes your heart race all the same. Din’s face hovers over yours again as he begins to make a trail of butterfly kisses down your neck, and then your collarbone, and then even lower until he stops to focus his attention there, earning another sweet sound from you that causes his grip on your waist to tighten with approval.

After moments spent seeking the sounds of pleasure from you, Din’s mouth returns to yours again, and you feel one of the hands on your waist drift lower and lower until you realize he’s to prepare you for what’s to come. Each movement is gentle, as if he’s asking for permission and trying to see what reaps the most beautiful sounds and movements from you. Din studies you like a work of art that can reveal many meanings, and he finds joy in each one as he encourages you to say what feels good, to express how you’re feeling.

“It’s just us,” Din whispers into your ear as his hand continues to work in a manner that has your chest heaving already. His other hand brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t be afraid to tell me how you feel. Don’t hold back. This moment is for _us_.”

You can barely process his words thanks to his actions, and your eyelids constantly switch between fluttering closed and struggling to stay open just so you don’t have to break away from his enrapturing gaze. Your hands knead at his back and weave into his hair, constantly scratching and tugging and trying to urge him to do more, _more_ to feel this love that you’ve been aching to share in a manner beyond words. “Din,” you can finally make out, an unholy sound following from your lips when he adds a new kind of pressure. “Please. You… I want to—show you—feel _you_ —.” You’re cut off by yourself, unable to swallow back another moan that has Din humming with delight above you.

“I want that, too.” Din’s voice is still low yet gentle as it falls over the perspiring skin on your face. Yet, his movements don’t still, and now there’s a growing arch in your back as you seek to keep yourself pressed even more tightly against him. A string of more pleases falls from your lips, and you can feel Din smile against your cheek as he lavishes it with kisses. His movements finally stop and he lets his gaze meet yours again. There’s no words or sounds aside from your heavy breathing as one of his hands brushes the hair away from your face. Din handles you in a manner so tender that you’re practically already melting beneath him. “Are you ready?”

You don’t hesitate to give him a nod. Din returns it as his brow knits together in focus, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist for security and positioning. His other hand takes a hold of one of yours, his fingers lacing together with yours as he presses it against the mattress beside your head. Din’s gaze searches yours one more time, as if looking for a final confirmation, and you return it with everything you feel inside, hoping you can show every moment where you’ve dreamed of sharing this same feeling. The moment he presses on and you feel exactly what you’ve been wanting, a noise escapes you that’s nearly unrecognizable, and you hide your face in his bare shoulder to ground yourself again. Din gives your hand a gentle squeeze and holds your waist even tighter to himself.

“I know,” Din mumbles as he presses his lips against your ear. A hiss follows from him as he goes on, and you realize you’re no longer in control of what falls from your lips anymore. “I feel it, too.” These words comfort you the more you feel him, appreciating how gentle he remains as you squeeze his hand and run your free one over the muscles of his back.

Still, once you reach that feeling where you know he’s entirely one with you—where you’re already forgetting where he begins and you end—you can’t help your head from falling back to where it once was as a helpless yet pleasured whimper escapes you. “Din,” you call for him as if he’s not already here, not already making you feel something you never knew you could.

“I’m right here, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din assures you in a hushed voice, his forehead pressing against yours as the pressure starts to leave. “I’m here. I promise.” When it returns once again in the beginning of your shared rhythm, you attempt to pull him closer as more incoherent sounds leave you. Din gives your hand a squeeze. “You’re so lovely, _cyare_. You sound so lovely.” Din pauses to bury his face in your neck as he releases a groan into the skin there. “You feel _so_ lovely.”

Din continues this rhythm, and with every connection of himself to you, there’s an energy you both match with a noise and a squeeze of your entwined hands. You know that what you’re feeling is the love you’ve always tried to put into words but never could describe. Thankfully, you can spell it out here, losing yourselves in each other and feeling all the things you could never say. Even when your shared flame burns hotter, increasing the intensity and bringing you to a place you never thought you could reach, Din never stops his hold on your hand and your waist as he makes you feel safe and grounded and cared for. The sounds you both produce are impossible to control but you wouldn’t want to, anyway. It’s breaths you both share in the same space that reveal the true love and pleasure and passion that goes far beyond words.

And when it all comes together, stringing along a series of stars that paint their own galaxy in your line of vision, you give an offering of his name that’s loud yet breathless and full of nothing but all the love and passion you feel in your heart for him. It’s not too much longer until he does something similar—and still, his grips on you never loosens, proof that he will truly keep you safe and loved as long as you live.

Din’s lips brush against your ear again as your chests heave in the same, rapid pattern. “I love you,” the words fall breathlessly from his lips, over and over and over again. “I love you, I love you—I love you _so_ much, _cyar’ika_. You did so well. You were so good.” His lips move to press sweet kisses all over your face, letting you catch your breath as your free hand cups his cheek in admiration.

“I love you too, Din,” you manage to breath out, looking him in his eyes with pure honesty and affection. “ _So_ much.”

Din smiles at you, kissing you one more time before falling beside you. He pulls you close against him, allowing you to rest your head in his glistening chest as he rests his chin on your head. “Welcome home.”

In this moment, you don’t regret a single thing that’s led up to this moment: the pain, the suffering, any of it. You just relish in the feeling of finding your true home, in the knowledge of having a family to hold tight once again, in reaching the last phase of security you were promised—the destiny you were made for.

And blissfully unaware of the fact that Moff Gideon lives.


	22. Ethereal (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess spend a peaceful day together in the midst of their recovery from recent and tumultuous events.

Your eyes open lazily to the glow of sunlight filtering in through the carefully woven walls. Often, you forget that you’re not in the dark compartment and sorry-excuse-for-a-bedroom on the Crest any longer. You bite back a smile at the thought as you gently move your head from where it’s been nestled in Din’s bare chest, observing the way the small glimmers of sunlight bathe over his peaceful face. It highlights the various scars and healing scratches there, making his skin glow in an angelic manner. You can’t help letting a smile grow completely now as you dare to lift one of your hands, gingerly brushing your knuckles down the side of his cheek. His skin is soft until you reach the stubble on his jaw. You often find yourself in disbelief that this is the life you’re leading after everything that’s happened—but the one thing you truly will never get a full grasp on is being married to this Mandalorian and having the privilege to see his face every day.

Knowing the task at hand in finding the child’s true home will be hefty and needing time to recover from the gruesome events as of late, you both decided to lay low somewhere for a little while until you’re ready to move on. Your immediate choice, of course, was Sorgan. The villagers welcomed you back with open arms, pleased to see that you’d made it out alive. They even threw you both a reception for your recent marriage, celebrating deep into the night with homemade baked goods, food, and lots of dancing—which certainly took some convincing on Din’s part. Yet, in the aftermath of everything, he’s been much more willing to try new things, which you’re sure his near-death experience contributes greatly to.

This time, Omera was able to place you into the hut where Cara previously stayed, which is surprisingly roomier with the same crib for the child as the last time. It offers you both a lot more privacy, dissipating any fears Din would have about removing his helmet. Sometimes, Omera lets the child stay in her hut to have sleepovers with his dear friend Winta, giving you both even more opportunities to have alone time together. That was the case last night, and you weren’t shy about making the most of it, now finding yourself tangled up solely in the combination of your sheets and Din’s body.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you barely notice Din beginning to stir, his brown eyes opening to meet yours warmly. It feels like sweet honey dripping into tea as you share an affectionate gaze, bringing a strong feeling you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to. You instead begin to run the pads of your fingertips against his cheek, your heart warming as he leans into the touch. No words have to be spoken just yet; absorbing this intimate moment is too important. Din carefully lifts one of his hands and places it against your chin, reaching his thumb out and brushing it gently over your lips. His gaze watches his actions carefully, as if he’s seeing this feature of yours for the first time.

Slowly and gently, you lean forward until your lips press against his, the movement lazy at first and only deepening when you allow your lips to part. His hand brushes along your jawline and moves to your hair, running it through his fingers. Yours do the same to his, causing you both to exchange soft sighs between you. The kiss is long and stays slow, only ending when you’ve lost your breath completely. Gentle pants fall from your lips and Din’s smile becomes apparent as he brings his hand back to your cheek.

“ _Jate vaar’tur_ , _cyar’ika_ ,” Din says in a soft voice, pressing an additional kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Good morning to you too, _riduur_ ,” you respond, releasing a lighthearted giggle as you give his lips a lazy peck. When you pull away, you keep your face close to his, unable to stop smiling as your thumb continually brushes over the skin of his cheek. You’re still not over how handsome he looks in the glow of the morning light. You think he must be an angel of sorts. You know he’s probably thinking the same thing about you.

“How’d you sleep?” Din’s question is gentle yet full of genuine concern for your rest.

You raise an eyebrow whilst releasing a chuckle. “Great. I was _exhausted_.”

A look of amusement paints itself on Din’s face. “Did I really wear you out that easily, _mesh’la?_ ” He laughs as he pulls you closer into him, burying a kiss in your hair. “I thought you had good stamina.”

You roll your eyes playfully as you press a kiss against the heated skin of his neck. “You’re so arrogant. Don’t act like you weren’t the first one of us to fall asleep—and the last one to wake up.”

Din laughs again, pulling you away from him to press his forehead against yours. “I guess we can call it even, then.” His soft smile is impossible to erase, and you’re satisfied to feel it against your lips as he kisses you again. He keeps it quick, instead opting to pull away and observe your face closely—as if he’s seeing it for the first time. You watch as his eyes trace the long scar that stretches across your face, something you’ve long since learned to stop being insecure of thanks to him. Still, he leans close and begins to plant butterfly kisses along it, speaking between them as he does so. “ _Gar… cuyir… bid… mesh'la… cyar’ika_.” He ends at the point on your left cheek, where you know the scar cuts off—but only for a moment. He resumes with kisses that he peppers down your jaw and onto your neck, where he begins to leave more open-mouthed kisses that have you sighing his name with delight.

Din only stops when you take his face in your hands, pressing a fervent kiss against his lips. He plays into that one much more than before, his fingertips gliding down the spine of your bare back and sending a pleasant shiver through you. Yours simply keep his face in place close to yours, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as your mouths continuously move in your shared rhythm. Eventually, you need to catch your breath once again and you separate yourself from him. Your gaze begins to watch your fingers as they trail down his jaw, and then his neck, and then onto his chest. They seek out the scars there, running over each one delicately. You’ve been trying to study them as best as you can, wanting to memorize every inch of Din possible. Din simply smiles at you as he watches your actions, his hand absentmindedly running through your hair.

Eventually, though, Din’s curiosity gets the best of him, and he moves his hand to instead take yours gently in his grasp. He lifts your knuckles to his lips, leaving a kiss there and brushing his thumb over them. “What are you thinking about, _cyare?_ ”

You drown in his gaze with ease, letting it bring you even more peace as you lay beside him. “I’m just trying to memorize you, _riduur_.”

Din stays silent for a moment, his lips slightly parted in disbelief of what you’ve said. He then shakes his head, as if unable to believe your words. “Say another thing like that and you’ll make me want to marry you again.” You let out a soft laugh, humming with content as you continue to hold his gaze. Sweet silence hangs in the air between the two of you, though it’s soon broken yet again by Din’s gentle voice. “We should probably get out of bed now.”

You wince, giving your head a shake as you take his face in your hands. “I’m not ready to have _this_ hidden from me again.” Your thumbs run over his cheeks as you lean forward to press a kiss on each one, remaining close and brushing your nose against his.

“You’ll see it again soon.” Din offers the reassurance in a whisper, allowing his lips to press against yours softly and swiftly before he continues. “But I know the child will be missing us.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, knowing he’s correct. Ever since your marriage, the child has only grown closer to the both of you, evidently recognizing you both as his parents. With too much time spent away from him, he begins to get antsy, and you know that if you don’t get up now he’ll let himself in—and it’ll be impossible to get him back out. Din becomes the first one to gain the faith to sit up from your place on the cot, stretching out his arms dramatically before he rises. He helps you to do the same, but not without pulling your body against his as he leans in to give you another kiss. When your fingers tangle themselves in his hair and give it a gentle tug, he swallows back a groan and tightens his hold on you.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll make me put us right back down on that cot.” Din murmurs the words against your lips, his eyes opening only to read the mischief clearly spelled out in your own.

“Maybe that’s my intention.” Din clicks his tongue as you giggle, shaking his head as he releases you and begins to dress himself. You do the same, slipping on the tunic the villagers had gifted you and wearing it over a more comfortable pair of pants. You quickly fashion your hair into a braid as you watch Din put on his endless layers of armor. You want to shake your head at him, knowing there’s no dangers waiting for him outside anymore, but the armor is more than a protector against danger. It’s an extension of himself and his status as a Mandalorian, something you’d never want to tear away from him.

Before Din slips the helmet back on, he makes his way over to you, holding it in one of his hands as the other brushes over your cheek. The feeling of leather is familiar, something you’ve easily become accustomed to. He leans down to place an affectionate kiss on your lips, seemingly absorbing the feeling before he forces himself to pull away. “ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_ ,” Din murmurs, letting his gloved fingers run over your cheek before they fall away.

You smile at him, your chest warming up like never before. “I love you too, Din.” His gaze observes you warmly one last time before he takes the helmet in both hands, slipping it on over his head. His appearance with the helmet is familiar to you, but now that you know the beauty of what lies behind it, you’re never overly happy to see it. Din moves to comfort you by pulling you into a keldabe kiss, his cool helmet meeting your forehead as he keeps you close. You appreciate the beauty of being able to maintain such loving gestures within his culture. “What are you up to today? Running more drills?”

“Mhmm.” The confirmation comes through his voice modulator, forcing you to adjust to the different way his voice now sounds. “I believe I’m close to mastering it.”

“I hope so. My blood pressure spikes every time you go up.”

Din lets out a soft chuckle, finally separating himself from you as he reaches for his jetpack somewhere on the floor. “I’m always careful, _cyar’ika_.” His tone is teasing as he hoists the contraption over his shoulder, adjusting his cape so that he can attach the equipment in place. “I can’t be reckless anymore.”

“I’m glad you realize that, too.”

Din stops and looks over at you, and even with the visor now hiding his gaze, you can tell it’s full of warmth and determination. “There’s too much I have to come back to.” You return his look with all the love you feel at his words. It’s one thing to remember that you’re truly a family in Din’s clan of three, but to hear it confirmed in Din’s words make it so much more real—and you can’t help feeling as if you’re living in a dream. You both hold each other’s gazes much longer than you should, and eventually Din shakes his head. “You can’t look at me like that, _riduur_. You’re making me want to kiss you again.”

You smirk at him. “Then do it.”

Din lets out a dramatic sigh, causing you to chuckle as you watch him head for the exit of the hut. You follow close behind, squinting a bit as you’re met with the bright daylight. Instantly, you search for the child and easily find him already occupied with the group of children. You start to head in that direction—but not without Din grabbing your hand first and giving it a squeeze. You return it with a soft smile, watching as he heads away to one of the many patches of grass that surrounds the village. He’s used to not eating breakfast because of his helmet, so you don’t try to nag him into eating some before he practices.

As you approach the children, you see Omera close by, and she smiles at you while reaching for a nearby tray of food. You thank her as you sit beside her, already knowing the routine well enough to remember that she always has something ready for you. You pick at the selection of berries and grains as you both watch the children playing and make small talk. Constantly, you find your gaze also drifting over to Din, where he’s sometimes practicing on the ground or flying in the air above the village. Your heart leaps in your throat every time it’s the latter scenario.

Soon, the child waddles up next to your leg, cooing at you to grab your attention. He gestures for you to pick him up and you smile as you oblige, leaving a soft kiss on his furry forehead. The child laughs in a bubbly manner, causing your smile to grow. He then looks up to the sky and gestures towards Din, who’s doing Maker-knows-what with various dives and twirls of his jetpack.

“Yeah, your _buir_ ’s flying again,” you tell him, brushing your hand along one of his ears. They lift up and down in a suggestive manner, and when he gestures to Din again, you realize what he’s asking for. You furrow your brow. “Oh, I don’t know, _ad’ika_ … it’s a little too dangerous.”

The child’s ears instantly droop as he pouts. You let out a soft scoff, looking over to see Omera holding back a chuckle. “He _has_ gotten better, you know,” Omera reminds you. “I think you should let him have a chance.”

You look back to the child, seeing his ears perk up just a bit at Omera’s words. Reluctantly, you nod your head. “Alright. We can ask him.”

The child coos excitedly and you hold back a laugh whilst standing up and walking over to where Din’s about to land on the ground. As soon as he sees the both of you approaching, Din freezes, helping to close the distance until his voice can be heard. “What is it?” Din asks, slight concern dripping into his modulated voice.

“The little furball wants to fly with you,” you respond, earning a tilt of Din’s helmet as he sees the child start to reach for him.

“And you’re… okay with that?” Din says the words hesitantly, taking the child into his arm gingerly. You can tell he’s over the moon that his little one wants to fly with him—but he also knows how careful you are regarding his safety.

“I trust you.” You look at the child nervously, nevertheless. “But only one flight, Din.”

“Alright. We’ll be fine.” Din bends down to touch his helmet to your forehead before he hurries back over to the open grass. You stay where you are, holding your arms close to your body as you nervously watch them start to go up in the air. Din keeps the child tight against his shoulder as they zoom through the sky. You swear you can hear the child’s loud laughs of pure joy, bringing a smile to your lips. Din pulls out all his best tricks—the diving, the twirling, and even a flip. At the latter move, you swear you’re going to reprimand him for doing something so risky but hearing the child’s whoop of delight makes you rethink your future actions.

After many more minutes of this, you watch Din descend back down to the ground. He lands so much more gracefully than he did that first time on Nevarro. Soon, he’s walking back over the you with a giddy child in his arms and you can tell the smile he wears underneath his helmet is just as bright.

“See? I told you, _cyar’ika_. Safe and sound.” He looks down at the child, brushing his hand over his ear affectionately. The child lets out a loud coo as he nestles his head into the fabric of Din’s neck. Your heart swells at the sight of it.

“I said I trusted you!”

“Yeah, but I could tell you were nervous.”

You let out a sigh as Din chuckles, your hands falling on your hips as you raise an eyebrow at him. “Was the flip really necessary?”

“ _Cyare_ , please, I had it all under control.” Din then tilts his helmet at you. “Why don’t you try it out for yourself?”

Your eyes double in size as you scoff. “Me? You want to take _me_ up there?”

“I did it once before.” Din takes a step closer to you, his free hand taking a hold on the upper part of one of your arms. “C’mon. Let me show you how fun it is. I won’t let you fall.”

You take a deep breath, finally giving in as you gesture to the child. “But I’m not letting you take both of us. That’s too risky.”

“But last time—.”

“No, no ‘buts’ about it. This is _much_ different than last time.”

Din sighs, agreeing to your words as he hands you the child. He lets you walk him back over to his friends, and immediately he becomes too preoccupied with them to realize what you and Din are about to do. When you walk back over to Din, he takes you eagerly into his arms, placing your back against his front as his arms wrap around your middle. “Just hold tight to my arms,” Din instructs you, his modulated voice sounding directly into your ear as you nod to acknowledge his words. He waits a beat, and you know he’s reading your expression. “Are you ready?” You give another nod, practically hearing Din’s smile as he activates the jetpack.

And then, you’re _flying_.

You hold tight to Din’s arms as you swoop through the air, practically touching the clouds as you soar high above the Sorgan village. You let out a soft gasp of delight as you see the fields and trees that go beyond the village, drowning your sights in nothing but soft blues and greens. Din keeps his flying simple at first, not making any risky moves as he lets you take in the sights.

“It’s so beautiful!” you say to him, raising your voice above the sound of his jetpack.

“Isn’t it?” Din agrees, his smile practically audible. “I get to see this every day.” He pauses for a moment. “Well, _and_ you.”

“Now’s not the time for flattery—” you start to respond, but suddenly he dares to take a risk and start twirling you both over in the air. You let out a surprised shriek, gripping his arms even tighter now. “Din!”

“Relax, _cyar’ika_ , I’ve got you,” Din assures you with a soft laugh. “Just let yourself have fun!”

You try to do what he says, but then the bastard takes you into a risky flip move—practically causing your heart to leap out of your chest. “ _Din!_ ”

“There’s a time and place for screaming my name, and this isn’t it!” Your cheeks burn hot as you roll your eyes at Din’s words, letting him have the laugh as he goes back to flying normal. “Don’t worry. Take it all in.”

This time, you really do what he says, and the next time he attempts a twirl you laugh in delight with him. You can feel him hold you even tighter when he senses you enjoying it. He becomes bolder in adding some additional twists and turns along with some flips—anything to hear your laugh again. By the time you’re heading back down to the ground, you’ve decided that you love flying, and you know Din can tell.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Din keeps you close in his arms as you turn around to face him, bracing your hands against his chest as you do so.

“Once you get used to all those crazy flips… yeah, I guess it was pretty fun.”

You can tell Din’s searching your gaze and observing all the love and light inside of it—and it makes him release a frustrated sigh as he rests his helmet against his forehead. “Stop making me want to kiss you. It’s unfair.”

You release a soft laugh, running one hand along the side of Din’s helmet. “I guess you’re just gonna have to call it quits for the day and have some lunch inside the hut, now.”

Din doesn’t hesitate to agree with you, reaching for one of your hands as you head back to the hut.

For the rest of the day, you both help the villagers with whatever they’re working on and watch over the children as they play. The child’s completely wiped out by the time the sun sets in the Sorgan sky, but still is asked to stay the night once again in Omera and Winta’s hut, where a few more village children also tag along. This leaves you and Din alone for another night together. The villagers kindly remembered how much you both love staying out late at the fire, so they all agreed to stay in their huts for the night to allow you both to stay outside without the barrier of Din’s helmet. You have no idea how to repay them for their kindness—but they always tell you they owe you for the way you saved them from the attackers many moons ago.

Now, you sit on the base of a log next to Din, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as you watch the fire crackle in front of you. The moonlight reflects on the pond that stretches just beside you, bringing a smile to your lips as you remember the conversations you and Din used to have there long ago. The thought of him makes you look up at his exposed face, where you watch in awe as the light of the fire dances on his soft skin. His dark eyes almost glow amber in this light, making him look even more ethereal to you. When he catches you looking, he holds your gaze, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.

“What?” Din’s voice is soft and holds a light chuckle.

You part your lips to speak but have trouble finding any words. “You’re just so…” you trail off, shaking your head in disbelief as you wrap your arms around his middle, “… handsome.”

Din’s cheeks redden slightly at your words and you know he’ll never confess it, instead raising his free hand to cup your cheek. “That’s an honor coming from someone who looks like you.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek, his smile impossible to erase as he observes you closely. “ _Ner riduur. Ner kar’ta. Ner oyay_.” Din stops and leans forward to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead. “ _Maker_ , I love you.”

The words coming from a man who used to have a heart so hardened makes your chest tighten up, your smile growing as you brush your nose against his. “I love you, too.” You press a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips. “ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum_.”

Din releases a soft sigh at your words, keeping your nose against his as his gaze flutters between your own and your lips. “I always thought Mando’a was beautiful on its own.” His voice is hushed, as if he doesn’t want to hear anybody or anything else to hear his words. “And then I hear you speak it—and I realize just how beautiful it really can be.”

Unable to hold back anymore thanks to Din’s sweet words, you press your mouth fully against his, instantly melting against him. You can’t fathom anything else but _him_ —the feeling of _his_ hands running through your hair, _his_ teeth grazing across your lower lip, _his_ tongue dancing with yours like the flames of the fire—and you can’t get enough of it. You hold his face in your hands like it’ll disappear if you let go, never wanting this feeling to go away.

The only thing that manages to separate you from him is the gasp of surprise you release when he eases your back onto the log, hovering over you as he moves to deepen the kiss. You stop him solely because you know what’ll come next.

“We can’t do this _outside_ , Din!” you whisper-shout, your eyes widened as Din’s flash with amusement.

“Why not?” Din remarks, tilting his head at you. “Nobody’s watching.”

You huff. “Yeah, but—.”

“I know, you’re too loud.”

You gasp again, swatting his shoulder as he laughs. “You’re such an ass!” You pause to chuckle yourself. “Even if that’s true, _still_. It’s too risky.”

“Alright, alright, _cyar’ika_. We’ll finish it inside.” Din places a few soft kisses around your face before he sits back up, helping you to do the same. He successfully extinguishes the fire and leads you by the hand to your hut, where you start your dreamy routine all over again—beginning with Din’s love that you know you’ll never tire of.


	23. Nova (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess learns how to use Din’s pulse rifle while he keeps a few surprises up his sleeve—causing their love to burn brighter than ever.

“You want to learn how to use it.”

You turn quickly when you hear Din’s modulated voice from behind you. He’s leaning against the threshold of your hut, his elbow above his helmet as he tilts it at you. You look from him back to the pulse rifle in your hands, where you’ve been admiring the smooth wood and shining metal while cleaning it for him. The evident fondness and pride in his voice is enough to make you smile.

While the past two weeks resting in Sorgan have been nothing short of blissful, you’ve found yourself seeking adventure again more than you should. The weight of what still lies ahead rests on your shoulders whenever you don’t have something to distract you from it. Things like watching Din fly and hearing the baby’s soft snores whenever he actually  _ does  _ sleep with you and Din in the hut remind you of the fact your quest has truly only just begun. With the anticipation of such a journey constantly haunting you, there’s been no choice but to start craving it.

But those feelings always pass with time. You blame it on the years spent never getting a chance to rest, having to run for your life until you ran right into Din and the little green baby in his arms. You’re not used to this peaceful life, not since the galaxy was a very different place. You’ll think of the sweet mornings you spend waking alongside Din and the private moments your clan of three gets to spend together and you instantly forget the idea of trying to get away from where you are right now. That’s how you always manage to come back from such ambitious feelings of adventure and danger, though keeping up with the cleaning of both yours and Din’s weapons doesn’t help those thoughts from returning.

Once you’ve successfully pulled yourself from these thoughts, you maintain your smile, responding to Din’s words as you run your fingers along the smooth wood of the rifle. “It seems like a really great weapon,” you tell him. “I remember when you used it against those Trandoshans on our first supply run.”

You can hear Din’s boots, now, as he approaches you. His gloved hands fall on your waist as the lip of his helm touches your shoulder, causing you to turn your head as you gently press your forehead against whatever part of his helmet you can touch. “Is that really the only time you’ve seen me use it?” You nod. Din clicks his tongue, lifting one hand from your waist to lay over your grip on the rifle. “I think it’s time for a training session, then.”

Your eyes widen with excitement as you turn around, forcing his grip to loosen as you face him. “Do you mean it?”

Din nods. “Of course I do.” His smile is practically audible as he presses his helmet against your forehead. “I’m… not sure I’ll survive the sight of it, but we’ll try.”

You laugh at that, kissing his beskar cheek before you pull away with the rifle in your hands. “Okay,  _ riduur _ . Lead the way.”

Together, you make your way out of the hut, heading to the stretch of grass where Din usually runs his jetpack drills. You look over your shoulder at the village to make sure the baby’s okay. He’s still playing happily as ever with Winta and his other friends, with Omera close by to supervise. She catches your gaze and nods reassuringly at you, wrinkling her brow in question at the sight of you with the rifle. You shrug in return, smiling before you face forward again.

Din stops you in the middle of the field, encouraging you to stretch out whatever you need to as he does the same. Then, with a nod, he goes straight to business, becoming the stoic warrior you first fell in love with as he gently takes the pulse rifle from you.

“This weapon, as you may remember, is  _ very  _ powerful,” Din begins, displaying it in his gloved hands for you to see. “It has a few different features.” He holds it properly in his arms, now, finding a fake target in the sky. You step back to watch him as he continues. “It has an electric pulse.” Din lights it up just to show you, the metal prongs lighting up with blue static as you watch with awe. “It can disintegrate.” Din gestures to the charges in both his rifle strap and his boot, causing you to nod in understanding. “And it can be used as simple melee.” He steps even further away from you to demonstrate a few moves, swinging the pulse rifle against an invisible opponent. When Din stops, he holds the weapon delicately again, facing you with severity. “That’s why you have to be very,  _ very  _ careful with it.”

You nod again, reaching out to accept the rifle when Din hands it to you. The rifle feels natural in your hands as you assess its features just like before, feeling more confident now that Din’s demonstrated them for you.

“Keep testing the weight,” Din instructs you. “I’ll grab a stick of my own.”

Din trots towards the woods as you swing the rifle in your hands, getting used to the way it feels when you use it as a melee weapon. You hadn’t gotten the chance to train with many stick-like weapons before, but the moves still feel fluid as you improvise them. You’re so wrapped up in this that you barely notice Din’s return until you see the long stick he’s retrieved just beside you.

“Looks like you’ll get the hang of this easily,” Din comments, his voice warm as he tilts his helmet admiringly at you. Your face starts to burn as you shake your head at him. “I would expect nothing less from you,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

“All right, all right, let’s not start with the flattery,” you remark, raising your brow as you flip the rifle in your hands again. “ _ Yet _ .”

Din chuckles, tightening his grip on the stick as he goes back into combat mode. Using the stick, he takes you through a few traditional movements with the rifle, incorporating more advanced sequences with steps and turns. Just as Din had guessed, you pick it all up easily, moving with the rifle as if you’ve always wielded it. You can imagine Din’s fond gaze behind the visor as he watches you move. “ _ Ner rid’ika _ ,” Din begins, his modulated voice dreamlike as he sets his stick upon the ground and leans against it. “You look so…  _ powerful _ .”

You shake your head, looking down in the face of Din’s sweet affections. “You’re distracting me, my love.”

You can hear Din hum even through the modulator, looking up again as he approaches you. “That’s a new one.” He refers to the endearment, making you shrug as he tilts his helmet at you. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to distract  _ me _ .”

With a shrug and a smirk, you close the distance, your chest just barely touching his cuirass as you look straight into his visor. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Djarin.”

The breath Din takes is visible as his armored chest rises and falls slowly. Then, with the focused nod of a warrior, he nods. “You’re right,  _ Djarin _ .” Din lifts his stick from his side, taking a step back and holding it with both his gloved hands in front of him. He then flips it in his right hand and puts one foot back, bringing him into an attack position. “I have to see this one through.”

You furrow your brow with worry when you realize what he’s proposing. “Din,” you start to argue, keeping your voice low to be extra cautious that people don’t hear your utterance of his name, “what if I hurt you?”

“You won’t.” Din offers another nod, this time in reassurance. “But if you do, then I know you’ll patch me up.” Din tilts his helmet at you again. “And I happen to like the feeling of your hands on me.”

You shake your head with a huff, narrowing your eyes as you start to focus on the fight ahead. With a few quick movements of the rifle, you get yourself into a similar position to Din, raising your brow at him as if you’re challenging him to attack first. You know he won’t.

So,  _ you  _ do.

You take two quick steps towards him and start to lunge with the rifle to one side, getting him to dedicate to protecting that side of himself. At the last second, you step and turn over your shoulder, taking the rifle with you as you aim to knock away his grip on the stick. Instead, Din recovers quickly, meeting you there as the stick keeps you from reaching his hand. He leans into the stick to force you and the rifle away, though before he can make another move, you roll onto the ground and prop up on one knee. You pretend to charge up the rifle with a disintegration, though Din reacts fast. He uses the stick to knock away the metal prongs of the rifle, making you fall onto your side. Din raises his stick in preparation to strike down hard, but you know this fight is hardly over.

You lift the rifle to meet his strike, using all the strength in your arms to push his stick away for even just a moment. You roll over your shoulder to land on your knees, recovering quickly enough to take a step and turn with your other leg extended. It successfully makes contact with the back of Din’s knee, bringing him down upon it as you use the end of the rifle to hit his beskar chest. This knocks his back to the ground, allowing you time to stand and kick the stick away from his grasp. He tries to use his gloved hands to take you to the ground with him, but you point the prongs of the rifle at his clothed neck before he has the chance to do anything other than pull your feet out from under you. Still, even as you fall only to end up straddling his middle, you maintain your position with the rifle at his neck, refusing to give him the victory as you breathe heavily.

The two of you sit in a brief silence as you catch your breath, your gazes locked even through his visor as Din’s gloved hands settle on the sides of your legs. For a quick moment, you think Din might be angered at his sudden defeat, but when he speaks all of your fears dissipate. “Besting me with my own weapon,” he rasps, his hands now finding your waist as he holds onto it with the same kind of admiration you can hear in his tone. “I knew you were the one.”

You let out a breathy laugh and shake your head, lifting the rifle from his neck and resting it against your thighs. “You were going easy on me.”

“Going easy?” Din nearly scoffs, shaking his helmet right back at you as he gives your waist a gentle squeeze. “You underestimate yourself,  _ ner kar’ta _ .” Knowing that Din won’t be the first one to get you out of this position, you set the rifle aside and stand up, offering a hand to Din. He takes it and you tug hard to help him up, watching him bend down to grab the rifle before he tilts his helmet at you. “You need to teach me that spin-kick move. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Sure.” You smile at him, lifting your hand to the back of his helmet as you urge it to meet your forehead. “But I think we’ve had enough showing off for one day.”

Din uses the hand that’s not holding the rifle to wrap around you, pulling you against him before he responds. “I was just getting started.”

You snort before closing your eyes, absorbing his touch and this peaceful moment you get to have. Once again, you’ve forgotten all about the quest that lies ahead, instead favoring to remain in this moment with everything in the galaxy that you could ever need right at your fingertips.

You manage to keep Din suited for the rest of the day, only finding him with the helmet off and casual clothes on when you’re given another night to sit outside by the fire. Just like before, the Sorgan villagers remain in their homes, giving Din the privacy and safety he needs to sit outside without the barrier of his helmet. You emerge from the hut in the shirt of his that he left for you as always, approaching where he sits at the fire. The muscles of his arms and back ripple as he seemingly works at something in front of him, making you furrow your brow as you decide to announce your arrival.

“Are you working on something?” you ask, causing Din’s head to turn quickly over his shoulder. His brown eyes look alert until he sees that you’ve stopped, causing him to release a breath of relief as he smiles warmly at you. The sight of him is enough to keep you frozen in place for longer than you can even keep track of. It’s the first time you’ve gotten to see his face again since this morning, and with both the glow of the fire and the moonlight lighting it up, you think he’s managed to knock every last ounce of air from your lungs.

“I…” Din trails off, looking back at whatever’s in his hands. “Well, I think it’s finished.” Din looks at you again, smiling with more reassurance as he gestures with his head. “You can come over.”

You nod, keeping your arms crossed over yourself as you finish approaching him. As you sit beside him slowly, you observe the scene you’ve walked into. There’s something clasped in one of his hands, along with some of his metal working tools on the ground by his boots. You don’t ask about it, letting Din keep it private if he wants to. Instead, you lean your head against his bare shoulder, letting your gaze watch the fire as it crackles in front of you.

“I had some beskar leftover from shaping my new cuisse,” Din starts to explain. His words are soft and the sound of them unfiltered makes your stomach flutter as it always manages to. “I decided to use it for something else.”

“Yeah?” Your voice is even softer than his as you still don’t look away from the fire.

“I… made something long overdue.” You furrow your brow, now watching as his closed fist moves in front of you. Slowly, Din uncurls his fingers, revealing a sight that makes you gasp aloud. Sitting in the palm of his hand are two rings fashioned from beskar, one to fit your finger and one to fit his own. You lift your head from Din’s shoulder to properly face him, still in too much disbelief to show any other kinds of emotion. “I know they’re not perfect,” Din already starts to panic, his gaze avoiding yours as he shrugs at the rings in his hand. “I tried, but… I think the Armorer probably would’ve done a better job. I think I got your size right, I—.”

You cut off his nervous rambling by taking his face in your hands, pulling it to your own as you kiss him with all the love and passion you feel in your heart for him. You can tell you’ve taken him by pleasant surprise, his reciprocation coming a few moments later than usual as his free hand cups your cheek to deepen the kiss. When you pull away, you press an additional kiss to his nose, resting your forehead against his as you look down at the rings in his hand again. “Din,” you begin, your voice wobbling in your sudden emotion. You look up at him, realizing the image of him is blurred in front of you thanks to your joyful tears as you smile wide. “They’re  _ perfect _ .”

Din searches your gaze for dishonesty, but as usual, he can’t find any. All you can see is the reverent love you feel for him reflected back at you, melting your heart as he smiles with such happiness you think he might just burst. “Really?”

You nod, laughing a bit as you feel a tear escape your eye. “Really!” Din’s hand that’s still on your cheek brushes away the tear and he kisses the spot just after. His smile is impossible to erase just like your own as you both look down at your hands, where Din takes the ring fit for you and then gently slides it onto your left ring finger. It fits perfectly, making you kiss his cheek for reassurance. “See? I told you. Perfect.”

Din returns your gaze, his eyes saying more than he ever could as he stays close to you. “I think  _ you’re  _ perfect.” He kisses you, keeping this one brief as you giggle against his lips. He’s become so utterly soft ever since he knew it was safe to, here in the one place in the galaxy that feels very much like home to the two of you.

“Now it’s your turn.” You look down at your hands again, taking the other ring from Din’s hand and sliding it onto his left ring finger. It fits him just as perfectly as yours had fit you, making you smile even more as you entwine your fingers with his. You meet Din’s gaze again with a love that burns so bright it rivals the fire that lights up the sight of him in front of you. “It was meant to be, huh?”

Din shakes his head in amazement of you, running his knuckles down the side of your face as he admires you. “You have no idea.” His voice is breathless,  _ passionate _ , making butterflies erupt within you as you rest one hand upon his chest and wrap the other around the back of his neck. Din’s eyes close as he releases a soft sigh at the feeling of the cold beskar touching his skin, only making you smile more. You brush your nose against his to get his attention again, hovering your lips over his as you let Din make the final move.

The way Din kisses you makes you forget where you are, instead bringing you back to your shared galaxy that you both escape to as much as you can. He holds you in a grasp that wordlessly promises eternal protection and affection, making you feel all the security you were promised what feels like ages ago. It only gets stronger when Din moves to take you inside, a place where the heat of your love can burn without restraint.

Still, even the warmth of his skin against yours can’t rival that which grows within the two of you, making the cool touch of the beskar rings even more prominent as you hold on to each other with every ounce of strength you have left. His ring remains interlocked with the warmth of your fingers, reminding you of the way he’ll never let you go. Yours roams wherever it can—in his hair, on his back, anywhere you find yourself holding on to in this moment where you’re no longer in the galaxy that’s hurt you. This one is  _ safe _ , secure, so loving that you can barely breathe in the best of ways. You try to put it into words, but these actions do a much better job of that, any sounds you provide still doing justice as Din praises you for such.

And when the power of your love creates a supernova, powerful enough to make you both cry out as you shake in Din’s grasp that will never let you go, you try to hold on to this galaxy—your  _ star _ —where you feel the safest and most loved that you ever have and ever will. You know Din does just the same, burying his face in your neck as he declares words so reverent you can feel yourself choking up. When Din finally lifts his head and rests it upon your own, you look into his gaze with a heart that aches for him to know  _ exactly  _ what you feel. But there are no words for it:  _ I love you  _ doesn’t feel like enough. So, you go for something even deeper, something you know he treasures even more.

“ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, riduur _ ,” you whisper, your voice trembling in your prominent emotion as you watch Din’s imagine blur in front of you for the second time this night.

Din can’t find the words to respond. Instead, you watch as his own lips begin to quiver, his brown eyes full of your same strong emotions and tears. You cup his face with the hand that’s not locked in his own, encouraging him to seek the emotional release with you as you both weep with every ounce of passion you feel. The disbelief at your new reality, the relief of getting to be in this moment with each other, the joy at finally having the home you’ve always desired with each other—it all comes out in these tears that you shed together, mixing together when you kiss his salt-coated lips one more time.

Your eyes close in the bliss and exhaustion of such a demanding physical and emotional release, causing Din to care for you in the way he always does as he falls beside you and pulls you into his chest. He tucks your head underneath his chin, letting you wrap your arms around him to keep him as close as possible. No more words have to be spoken; everything you could’ve possibly said has been clearly shown.

Still, as you drift off into slumber—a place where you can try to escape to your shared galaxy in your dreams—you can hear Din’s voice, raw and reverent as he whispers the words aloud. “I love you more than you could  _ ever  _ know,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

And though he says otherwise, you know exactly how much Din loves you—and the ring on your finger that continues to cool his skin is just evidence of such.


	24. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With your brief period of rest ended and Din’s training completed, you set off to follow up on your largest lead, beginning a new journey that brings you to a familiar place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEASON TWO begins here! (*spoilers are ahead if you haven’t watched yet!)

This town looks just as Din had described it to you.

You stay close to his side as you walk towards the dimly lit area, your hand hovering over your holster. The baby’s pram is on Din’s other side, causing you to look past him as you continuously make sure he’s doing all right. When you spot the glowing red eyes of hidden creatures within the shadows, a shiver runs down your spine, and your heart aches when you hear the baby coo in a fearful manner at Din’s side.

“I don’t like this,” you tell Din lowly, looking over at him to see his helmet focused on the way ahead.

“It’s not much farther ahead,” Din assures you. He gestures with his head towards a building where the outline of a man is standing just outside.

You hear a growling from the shadows and tighten your fists at your sides. “But, these creatures—.”

“—won’t hurt us unless we hurt them.” Din finally looks over at you, tilting his helmet as he places his gloved hand along the small of your back. “Relax, _riduur_. I’ll make sure it’s all right.”

You can already feel the tension leaving you at his touch and assurance. You nod as Din regretfully brings his hand back to his side—not wanting to show that kind of affection in front of anyone who might use it against you. The baby also seems more relaxed at Din’s words, causing you to bite back a smile at his better understanding of the words you both speak.

You’ve had quite a bit of time to grow as a family since the day you exchanged your vows. You spent some time on Sorgan, laying low while Din ran his drills with his jetpack. You’ve noticed the growth both within him and your son, watching Din grow into his role as the leader of your clan while the baby begins to understand more about the galaxy around him. You’ve only recently started following up with Din’s quest that’s also now your own, gaining a lead that’s brought you to the very town in which you stand.

Din brings you up to the man you’d spotted before, who you can now identify as a large Twi’lek. He nearly towers over your _riduur_ as he looks between the two of you expectantly, giving a suspicious eye to your son.

“We’re here to see Gor Karesh,” Din says, his voice as firm as his stance. You keep your own gaze trained on the Twi’lek, not wanting to show any signs of intimidation or unease as you wait to get in.

After he observes your _riduur_ enough, he moves to the side, making room for the three of you. “Enjoy the fights,” he says, his voice low as he watches you all the way in. Your hand still floats over your holster even as you walk inside, closing the distance between yourselves and the loud roaring of a crowd.

You see the Gamorrean fighters first, their axes glowing with each strike as they’re cheered on by the rowdy crowd. Your gaze immediately switches to the baby, concerned that his eyes are witnessing such a sight. You know he’s seen worse—but constantly exposing him to such things worries you, _especially_ now that you’ve officially become his adopted mother.

Din stops before the entrance gives way to the arena, leaning over to you without looking your way. “He’s over there,” Din tells you in a hushed voice, gesturing to a place in the arena opposite from where you stand. You see the one-eyed man Din had been describing to you earlier sitting in the front row. For some reason, there’s a pit in your stomach—though you sense Din’s feeling the same amount of unease. “I’m not sure who we can trust, so the less they know about us, the better.” Din slyly points to an open place at the back of the crowd. “I’d like you two to wait there. If anything should happen, I’ll handle it myself.”

“And I’ll wait for your signal if you need me,” you finish, seeing Din nod to confirm your words. “All right. Just—.”

“—stay safe,” Din completes your sentence, chuckling a bit as his hand gently hovers over your lower back again. “I know. I will.” He pauses, still remaining in place as you now share a gaze that lasts longer than usual. Din releases a grunt after some time, looking away with a frustrated swing of his helmet. “ _Haar’chak._ ” _Damn it._ “I want to kiss you.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you use a bracelet Din had fashioned for you to bring the baby’s pram alongside you. “I guess that just gives you more incentive to stay safe, then, huh?”

Din looks at you again. “You two alone are always a big enough incentive for me.”

Your cheeks heat up as you shake your head again, gesturing with your head towards Karesh. Din nods, visibly taking a deep breath before he heads in that direction. You wait a few beats before following him, heading to the place Din had pointed out before. Thankfully, you still have a good view of Din and Karesh from where you stand. You watch as Din sits beside him, your fingers fidgeting with each other nervously as you witness their exchange. Karesh speaks a few words to Din, who looks over at him as he responds. You try to read Karesh’s lips, but it’s hard from this distance, and you curse under your breath.

When the Gamorreans clash _hard_ with their axes, you hear the baby coo loudly at your side. You turn your head quickly, seeing the baby also look from the sight of the fighters to you. With an apologetic expression and a quick stroke of his ear, you close the pram, not wanting him to have to witness any more of the fighting.

“I’ve had yet to see someone bring their child here,” a deep voice says from beside you. You turn your head the opposite direction of the child, seeing a human male approach you with a twisted smile. “You tryna’ scrap up some credits for you two or what?”

You look straight ahead again, refusing to answer him.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” the man repeats gruffly, his presence now uncomfortably close at your side. You continue ignoring him, your hand drifting closer and closer to your holster. That’s when he nudges your shoulder aggressively. “I _said_ , I asked you a—.”

You turn to face him quickly, showing your hand on your holster as you raise your brow at him. “And now I’m _saying_ get the hell away from us—or else.”

The man lifts his hands slightly in surrender, still not taking you seriously as he chuckles a bit. “All right, sweetheart, there’s no need to get—.”

“ _Don’t_ call me that,” you seethe, starting to take the blaster out of your holster. The man stumbles back a few steps. “I’ll give you five seconds to walk away before I shoot.” You tighten your grip on your blaster. “One…”

He’s already disappearing back into the crowd, causing you to smirk to yourself as you let your blaster fall back into your holster. This time, you didn’t even have to use the “my husband is a Mandalorian” card. You know Din will be proud of you for that later.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion amongst the crowd. You look to see that one of the fighters has been shot dead—and your heart sinks into your stomach when you look past them to see Din sitting there with at least four blasters pointing to his head, one of them belonging to Karesh. You narrow your eyes, preparing to view his signal as the crowd around you begins to disappear with fear. You realize, though, that if you don’t do the same thing, you’ll stick out. With a heavy sigh, you pretend to file towards an exit, instead keeping both yourself and the baby’s pram around the corner as you turn your head to watch the scene. Now that you’re in closer range to Din and the others, you can pick up on what they’re saying.

“Beskar’s value continues to rise,” you hear Karesh say, causing your chest to constrict as you watch his gaze flutter down to Din’s cuirass. “I’ve grown quite fond of it.” He pauses, and you hang on his every word as he continues. “Give it to me now or I will peel it off your corpse.”

You nearly laugh to yourself. _Din’s not gonna react to that well_. Din sits in silence for a few moments, though you can see his gloved fingers drumming slowly against his cuisses. “Tell me where the Mandalorians are and I’ll walk outta’ here without killing you,” Din retorts, his voice low, steady, and calm as ever.

Karesh furrows his brow. “I thought you said you weren’t a gambler.”

You watch as Din flexes his fist, causing the whistling birds to start activating. You bite back a smile, already knowing what’s to come. “I’m not.”

With those words, he lets the birds sing, their lights appearing and disappearing just as quickly as they hit their targets. Meanwhile, Din draws his blaster, beginning to engage with anyone who wasn’t hit with one of the whistling birds. His blaster’s quickly knocked from his hand as the living Gamorrean tries to jump on him, missing by a large amount as Din easily dodges the attempt. The Twi’lek from before grabs him from behind, attempting to restrain him as another man comes up to throw a punch. Instead, Din hits the Twi’lek with his helmet, causing him to be released as he punches the Twi’lek twice. Quickly, he turns and is forced back by another punch, though he quickly retaliates with a series of punches, kicks, and even another use of his helmet. You simply wait to see if he raises his signal to you—though it seems like he won’t need to.

You just enjoy the show, shaking your head as you try to ignore the warmth in your stomach. _Showoff._

At the end of it all, Din uses his vibroblade, stabbing one of them in the chest before using the same movement to throw it into the other man’s chest. Din pauses to see where Karesh has gone, and you look as well to see him disappearing into another exit. When you look back to Din, you see him glancing at you, and he gives you a nod before he picks up his blaster and vibroblade. You make your way towards the exit Karesh has just used, joining up with Din at his side as you step out of the arena.

Din darts ahead to catch Karesh with his grappling hook, drawing him in and walking towards a nearby lightpost. You stay close as he throws the cord over the light, stringing Karesh up until he’s hanging upside-down. 

“All right, stop, stop!” Karesh exclaims, his voice quivering in his fear of your husband. “I’ll tell you where he is.”

Din moves to stand in front of him, pushing one of his arms out of the way. You join him at his side, keeping the pram closed as you cross your arms over your chest. Karesh is too fearful of Din to even register your presence.

“But you must promise you won’t kill me,” Karesh goes on, his one eye wide with panic.

Din remains silent for a moment, as if he’s thinking through his every word. You know he most likely is. “I promise you will not die by my hand,” Din answers, causing you to look at him with an eyebrow raised. The wording is too specific for Din not to have a future plan for Karesh’s fate. “Now, where is the Mandalorian you know of?”

Karesh swings once as he tries to answer. “Tatooine,” he finally spits out.

You and Din share a quick glance, both your expressions—even through the helmet—revealing confusion. “What?” Din finally questions, looking back to Karesh with severity.

“The Mando I know of is on _Tatooine_ ,” Karesh repeats himself.

“I’ve spent much time on Tatooine,” Din informs Karesh. “I have never seen a Mandalorian there.”

“My information is good, I tell you,” Karesh insists. “The city of Mos Pelgo. I swear it by the Gotra!”

Din looks at you again, and you shrug at him in response. With no other leads, there should be no harm in at least trying to see whether or not Karesh is telling the truth. Din seems to agree as he turns back to Karesh. “Tatooine it is, then,” he says, beginning to turn around and go back the way you first came. You follow with him, smirking to yourself as you understand exactly what he’d been insinuating with his words before.

“Wait, Mando!” Karesh calls after him. “You can’t leave me like this!” You and Din keep walking as if he hasn’t spoken a word. “Cut me down!”

Din sighs beside you as he speaks loud enough for Karesh to hear. “That wasn’t part of the deal,” he remarks, pulling his blaster and turning quickly to shoot out the light that hangs above Karesh. You raise your brow at your husband, watching as he continues to urge you forward with him—his hand now brushing over your lower back again.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Karesh’s fading voice continues to exclaim towards you both as the creatures from the shadows creep in towards him. “Mando, I can pay! Mando— _Mando!_ ” He continues yelling desperately, though you just tune it out as you walk towards the _Crest_.

You look over at Din, chuckling a bit before you turn back towards the path. “Was the hanging thing really necessary?” you joke.

Din snorts, the sound crackling through his modulator. “That one was for my people,” Din explains. “Turns out that _osi’kovid_ hunts us and our armor for sport.”

You scoff and lightly nudge his arm with your shoulder. “Language,” you mutter, gesturing with your head to the baby’s pram—even though it’s still closed. “But really, Din—,” you pause as you wrap your hands around his arm, “—I’m proud of you for defending your people.”

Din pulls you closer to his side by using his arm. “Thank you.”

You nod and give his arm a gentle squeeze. “Though, I’ll have you know I had to defend _myself_ , too.”

Din immediately looks over at you, his helmet tilting with slight concern at your words. “Do I even want to know, _riduur?_ ”

You laugh softly. “It was just some guy making a single mother comment, I swear. But this time, I got him to run away on my own, without mentioning you.”

Din gives you an impressed nod. “Look at _ner cyar’ika_ intimidating men. That makes me… _very_ proud.” Din looks ahead again, his next words coming out in a lower tone as his protectiveness kicks in. “Though he’s very, _very_ lucky I didn’t see that exchange.”

“Based on what _I_ saw _you_ do to all those guys tonight? Yeah, I’d agree.”

Din shakes his head at you. “Please, _cyare_ , that was nothing.”

You scoff. “Nothing? Din, I don’t think I’ve seen you fight like that since… well, the droids on that prison ship.”

Din looks over at you with a dramatic tilt of his helmet. “You’re not serious, _riduur_.”

“Yes, I am!” you insist with a short laugh. “And you didn’t even use your blaster!”

Din continues to look at you, despite the fact the _Crest_ is now just a few paces away. “Didn’t you think that fight was…?” He trails off.

“Was what, _riduur?_ ” You’re smirking at him, and you know that he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

“Well, you actually didn’t _say_ anything.” Din opens the hatch using his vambrace, still continuing with his thoughts as he does so. “You trailed off just as I did.”

You shrug at him. “I don’t see what you’re trying to point out, then.”

Din looks over at you while you ascend your way into the hull. “ _Riduur_ …” His tone warns you. You simply hum in response, continuing to play the innocent card as you quickly open the baby’s pram. He’s sound asleep inside, causing you to chuckle as you step away from Din for a moment to set the baby down comfortably in his own compartment. You press a gentle kiss to his little forehead, smiling before you close the sliding door and secure him inside.

Almost immediately, you’re seized by the waist, your body spun around and pressed up against Din’s as he secures you there. You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the intense fluttering in your chest and stomach as you keep up your little act. “I still don’t know what you’re trying to say, Din.”

“Then allow me to use a different method of explaining,” Din remarks, lifting one hand from your waist to slide his helmet off. He tosses it onto a nearby cargo box before placing that hand against the back of your neck, bringing your mouth to his in a heated yet loving kiss. The first ones you share after outings like these are always _so_ desperate, as if even a single moment spent without the ability to love each other in such a way is suffocating for you. You melt against him as always, your hands holding his face—his cheeks warm and flustered from the long presence of his helmet—and keeping him as close to you as possible. When you pull away, it’s with heavy yet satisfied breaths, your noses brushing against each other as you exchange pleasant and dazed smiles.

“All right, I understand,” you finally say, giggling before you shift your attention to his curls. They’re matted from his helmet, causing you to bite back your smile as you let your hands sift through it. “Ah, your helmet hair, _riduur_ ,” you tease him softly, ruffling his curls in an attempt to bring them back to life.

Din closes his eyes and nearly whimpers with embarrassment. “Spare me, _cyar’ika_ ,” he pleads gently, causing you to chuckle as you give his nose a reassuring kiss.

“It’s okay, _riduur_. We’ll just wash up on our way to Tatooine.”

Din smiles at your proposition, giving you a nod before he sets his helmet back on and ascends with you to the cockpit. Once the _Crest’s_ course is set towards Tatooine, you lead Din back to the hull, helping him into the ‘fresher with yourself. You take the initiative on cleaning his hair—this time, without him even having to ask you to. You know one of his favorite feelings is your fingers in his hair, and after teasing him about the way his helmet had shaped his hair, you knew you could easily make it up to him by doing just that. You’re both much too exhausted from the thrills of the evening to pursue anything else, soon falling onto the bed in your compartment—a new one you’ve fashioned in an old storage room across from the cockpit—and getting a quick wink of sleep.

When the _Crest_ lets you know that you’ll be dropping out of hyperspace soon, you take the pilot’s seat to allow Din time to put his armor back on. He returns just as you start to navigate the _Crest_ closer to Tatooine’s surface, setting his gloved hand on the back of the chair as you look up to face him. His helmet tilts down at you in its usual fond manner—but it quickly starts to straighten back out with concern. You furrow your brow.

“ _Cyar’ika_ , I should’ve asked earlier,” Din starts, his voice low as he sets his other gloved hand on your shoulder. “Are you all right with returning here?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s fine by me.” You narrow your eyes at him. “As long as you don’t plan on taking another sporadic job with some easily-swayed rookie.”

Din scoffs, shaking his helmet at you. “Unless that rookie is a Mandalorian, we should be fine.”

You laugh, standing up to let Din take your place. As he descends onto Tatooine, you tend to the baby, who’s just awakened from his slumber. He coos loudly and happily as he sees you, causing your smile to widen as you kiss his face a few times. “Hi, _ad’ika_ ,” you greet joyfully, holding him in the crook of your elbow as you give one of his ears a stroke. “How’d you sleep?”

The baby coos in response, his head tilting to the side as his ears move up and then back down.

“You slept well? That’s good, _ad’ika_.” You giggle as you press one more kiss to his head, rocking him around a few times before you hear Din jump down from the ladder. You turn to face him, seeing him frozen in place as his helmet tilts affectionately at the two of you.

“ _Ner aliit_ ,” Din mumbles, finally approaching you as he wraps his arms around you and the baby while touching his helmet to your forehead. _My family._ “You truly make me never want to leave this ship.”

You beam at him, pressing a kiss to the ridge of his helmet. “Well, at least we always get to leave this ship _with_ you,” you insist.

“That’s right,” Din agrees, looking down to brush his gloved hand over the baby’s head. The little one coos with absolute delight; as much as the baby loves you, you know he’ll always have a soft spot for his father, the one who saved him. “Because wherever I go—.”

“—we go,” you finish, laughing a bit as you shake your head at him. “Yes. That’s only been your favorite saying ever since we left Sorgan.” Din simply shrugs in response, making you bite back your smile as you step away from him to look around the hull. “Now, do you want the pram or the satchel for the baby?”

“Actually,” Din says, reaching for a piece of cloth that hangs from the wall of the _Crest_ , “I want _this_.”

You raise an eyebrow as Din sets the bag over his shoulder, reaching out to take the little one from your arms. “I don’t think you’ve ever used that one before,” you say. The bag had been fashioned as a gift from one of the Sorgan villagers for your marriage, but neither one of you have tried it out yet—until now, it seems. “Is there a reason?”

“It’ll make it easier to show the baby to her,” Din tells you as he opens the hatch.

“Show who—?” you start, but as soon as the cloud of steam from the hatch clears up, you see her curly head directing her droids around. “Peli!” you can’t help exclaiming, smiling from ear-to-ear as you immediately catch her attention.

Peli gasps, opening her arms wide as she returns your smile. “I must be dreaming!” she says, her voice familiar to you in a way not many are. The three of you start to walk down the ramp as she goes on. “I was just reminding the droids to stay away from the ship. Seems like they’ve forgotten—but Peli doesn’t forget!”

Din chuckles and looks back at the ship. “May as well let them have at it,” he assures her, causing you to smile up at him. You know he’s been much better in his toleration of droids—thanks to a certain IG unit and its programming fashioned by an Ugnaught. “The _Crest_ needs a good once-over.”

Peli’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh!” she exclaims with surprise. “So he likes droids now!” She turns to the droids. “Well, you heard him. Give it a once-over.” Peli chuckles at them as the three of you approach her, though the baby’s slightly hidden from sight as he hangs in the bag at Din’s hip. She faces you with a bright smile. “I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos—.”

Peli stops when Din maneuvers the bag on his hip, so that the baby’s now visible in front of Peli. She nearly gasps, her smile widening as you laugh gently at the sight.

“Oh, thank the _Force!_ ” Peli squeals with delight, reaching out to take the baby delicately in her hands. “This little thing has had me worried _sick_.” She stops to look between the both of you with a reassuring smile. “Though I know he’s been in good hands.”

You nudge Din with your shoulder, catching his attention as his helmet looks over at you. “She’s talking about me, you know,” you joke, chuckling when he nudges you back.

The baby cooing at Peli brings you back into their interaction, making your chest warm as Peli looks up at you both again. “Looks like he remembers me,” she states, looking continuously between you two and the baby. “How much do you want for him? Just kidding. But not really.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you cross your arms over your chest. “Sorry, he’s a part of our clan, now,” you inform her.

Peli raises an eyebrow at you. “Clan?” she repeats. You nod, tapping on Din’s mudhorn signet to bring her attention to it. Peli gasps lightly, observing the new addition with wonder. “Wow, that’s nifty! Is that a—?”

“Mudhorn,” Din answers for her, causing all of you to look at his helmet as he speaks. “Thank you. But we’re here on business, and we could use your help.”

“Oh, then, business you shall have,” Peli responds, nodding as she waits for more information.

“We’ve been quested to bring this one back to his kind,” Din explains. Your heart always warms when he includes you in such a statement. It’s just another reminder that you’re in things together for the long-term, now, working together for _your_ clan.

“Oh, wow,” Peli reflects, nearly scoffing as she looks back down at the baby. “I can’t help you there. I’ve never seen any like it—and trust me, I’ve seen _all_ shapes and sizes in this town.”

Din sighs lightly, simply continuing with what else he needs to say. “A Mandalorian Armorer has set us on our path,” he informs her. “If we can locate another of my kind, we can chart a path through the network of coverts.”

Peli furrows her brow. “You’ve been the only Mando here for years from what I can tell,” Peli insists.

“Where is Mos Pelgo?” Din continues. “We’ve been told there’s one there.”

Peli whistles, widening her eyes as she looks away from you two for a moment. “Oh, boy, I haven’t heard that name in a while,” she mumbles. You and Din exchange a glance of curiosity before you face Peli again.

“It’s not on any of the maps,” Din tells her. You look over at him with a raised brow. He must’ve been checking while you woke up the baby earlier.

“Because it was wiped out by bandits,” Peli provides your answer. She goes on to explain what happened in the aftermath of the Empire’s fall and why she refuses to leave the city walls. Din asks to see where it used to be, so Peli calls an R5 unit over, urging him to display a map for you. It takes the little rustbucket a while, causing Peli to rant with frustration before she points to the map. “This is a map of Tatooine _before_ the war,” Peli explains as she gestures to the map. “You got Mos Eisley, Mos Espa, and up around this region, Mos Pelgo.” She points out each place, but there’s nothing on the map for Mos Pelgo, causing you to wrinkle your brow as Din looks between her and the map.

“I don’t see anything,” Din remarks dryly, causing you to elbow him. He looks over at you sharply, and you lift your brow in warning.

“Well, it’s there!” Peli insists. “Or at least, it used to be. Not much to speak of. It’s an old mining settlement. They’re going to see that big hunk o’ metal long before you land.”

Din holds his breath for a contemplative moment, looking over at Peli shortly thereafter. “You still have that speeder bike?”

“Sure do,” Peli answers. “It’s a little rusty, but I got it.”

She starts to lead you in that direction, showing off the bike just outside the hangar. Din observes it closely, nodding slowly before looking back to you and Peli. “That’ll be fine,” he asserts, “and it should fit both of us, _riduur._ ”

You nod, furrowing your brow as you gesture towards the baby in Peli’s arms. “What about him?” you question.

Din points to a part on the end of the bike. “The satchel will fit perfectly there,” Din assures you.

You nod again, starting to retreat back inside the hangar. “I guess we should gather our things, then.”

Din nods to agree with you, following you into the hangar and inside the _Crest_. You take all the things you’ll need for a few nights away from the ship, making sure you’ve got the baby’s stuff packed as well before you start heading outside again.

“Hey!” Peli exclaims in a hushed whisper, catching only you as you stop in place to face her. She grins at you, gesturing to Din—who continues walking out to the bike with the child in his satchel—and raising her brow. “I meant to ask.” She gestures with a finger in the space between the two of you. “Am I making things up, or is something… _different?_ ”

You laugh, shaking your head as your gaze falls bashfully to your feet. “No, you’re right,” you assure her, trying to bite back your smile. “We’re married, now.”

Peli’s eyes double in size as she grabs you by the shoulders, causing you to look back up at her. “ _Married?_ ” she nearly squeals, making you laugh again as she gives you a quick embrace. “Wow! Congratulations to you both!” She looks back in Din’s direction before turning to you again. “He sure is lucky to have you.”

You laugh loudly at that, catching Din’s attention from outside as he comes a little closer. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it,” you respond.

“Making fun of me already, _riduur?_ ” Din calls after you, leaning on one of his hips in a dramatic manner.

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “You always assume the worst!” you insist, trying—and failing—to hide your amused smile. “But… yeah, maybe we are.”

Din shakes his head, facing the bike again as you and Peli giggle at each other. You then walk out to where Din is, setting the last of your stuff on the end of the bike as you make sure the baby’s satchel is secured safely on there. You exchange goodbyes with Peli before Din gets on the speeder bike, extending a hand out to help you get on behind him. You wrap your arms around his middle tightly, watching as his helmet turns to look at you. “Do you have your goggles, _cyar’ika?_ ” he questions gently, and you nod as you quickly move them from your neck to your eyes. “Good. The sand really flies on this thing.”

“I’d expect it with your reckless driving, _riduur_ ,” you tease him, giving his middle a squeeze as he sighs dramatically at you.

“Just hold on tight, _ner kar’ta_ ,” Din instructs, flexing his wrists on the handles before he takes off—leading you to whatever adventure awaits you, and leaving you with the feeling that it won’t be like anything you’re expecting.


	25. The Settlement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess make their way across the dune sea towards Mos Pelgo, coming across old friends of Din’s and coming closer to new ones.

The journey across the dune sea is easier than you’d been anticipating, but  _ long _ . Although you’ve truly done nothing but sit upon the back of Din’s speeder for most of the day, you find your eyelids fluttering closed as the twin suns begin to sink in the sky, your cheek resting against Din’s back. You can feel the chuckle that radiates through his chest as his helmet quickly looks at you over his shoulder.

“You still with me,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din questions, having to raise his voice above the rushing wind as the speeder pushes forward.

You nod, assuming the movement’s been felt by Din as he focuses on the way ahead. “Mhm,” you assure him tiredly, “just a lil’ sleepy.”

“Yeah?” Din says even more softly, releasing one of his hands from the handles of the speeder to set it over both of yours. “Hang in there for a little longer,  _ cyar’ika _ . I can see a camp coming up.”

“What do you mean?” you hum, not bothering to look up from the place on his back that’s become so comfortable.

Your question mustn't have been loud enough, since Din doesn’t answer you. Instead, he continues forward, slowing down after a few moments. Your curiosity’s finally piqued enough for you to look up, your stomach dropping as the sight of a Tusken raider camp comes into view.

“Din!” you exclaim under your breath, pulling tight at the fabric of his shirt as you nearly try to hide yourself even more behind him. “Those are Tuskens!”

“It’s all right,” Din assures you, and you’re amazed at how calm his voice is—especially once the Tuskens notice you. “I’ve got it.”

“But—.”

“ _ Cyar’ika _ ,  _ ner kar’ta _ , we’ve had this discussion before.” He turns around to face you when he stops, one of his gloved hands brushing over your cheek as he gently rests the beskar against your forehead. “You can trust me.”

You release a gentle breath and nod, placing your hand over his as you give him a small smile. Din nods in return, and you can sense that he wishes he could supply you with so much more affectionate reassurance but settles for what he’s already done. He drops his hand from your cheek and stands up from the speeder, approaching the Tuskens who start to stand from where they’ve gathered around a fire. You wring your hands nervously as you watch him, soon also hearing the anxious cooing of your son from behind you. Quickly, you turn around, taking the little one in your arms as you give his ear a reassuring brush. “It’s all right,  _ ad’ika _ ,” you repeat Din’s own words to you from before.

You look back to Din and the Tuskens when you hear them speaking. It’s then that you realize it was  _ Din  _ you heard, his modulated voice offering the grunts and growls almost as easily as they do. Along with that, he uses his hands and arms to sign with them, easily carrying a conversation that you can’t begin to keep up with. Your heart nearly melts at the sight. You’ve always known that Din’s been extensive in his knowledge of the galaxy and other languages—hence his constant use of Mando’a—but you had no idea it extended  _ this  _ far. You bite back a smile during their entire exchange.

You’re unable to keep your eyes from openly admiring him when he walks back in your direction. Din tilts his helmet at you, offering his hand to help you stand up from the bike. “What?” he questions gently, chuckling a bit as he gets your bags off the speeder.

“I… I had no idea you spoke Tusken,” you confess, still smiling as Din leans back to tilt his helmet at you again while he shrugs in response. “What’d you say to them?”

“Not much,” Din assures you. “I just said that my wife and our son needed to rest for the night and asked if we could borrow some lodging.”

“Hey, but  _ you  _ need some rest, too,” you remind him, nudging his arm with your shoulder when you start walking towards the Tuskens’ camp. “Did you tell them that?”

“I think that was implied,” Din responds, causing you to giggle and shake your head.

“Did they ask for anything in return?”

Din’s now the one to shake his head. “No. They, uh… still have some gratitude for an earlier favor.”

You wrinkle your brow at him. “A favor?” Realization sets in and you start to smirk up at him. “Does this have to do with our last visit to Tatooine and a certain rookie bounty hunter?”

Din doesn’t answer you just yet, instead taking a dramatic silence as you fill the space with light laughter. “Maybe.” His modulated tone contains a strong hint of amusement.

You start to freeze a bit when you come close to the Tuskens that sit around the fire. You hate the way it makes you feel; you know you shouldn’t be judging them prematurely, but during your earlier years on Tatooine, you’d constantly been warned about them. But Din had told you before, you can trust him, and if he trusts these people then you can, too.

Din seems to notice all this as he shifts the bags to one arm, using the other to guide his hand along your lower back. He says something to the Tuskens that you don’t recognize, not able to sign as his hands are still full. The Tuskens seem to get it, though, as one of them stands up, leading the three of you to an open tent. You thank them graciously as Din appears to do the same in their own tongue, ducking inside with Din as you settle in quickly.

“They seem very hospitable,” you comment, not looking away from where you sit and swaddle the baby in blankets to both keep him warm in the desert night and to ease him to sleep.

“They are,” Din confirms, keeping his armor and helmet on as he sets up your bed for the two of you later. “More people would realize that if they actually took the time to get to know them and their culture.”

You freeze, keeping the baby pulled close to you as you turn around to face him. For a moment, you’re afraid that your earlier fear of the situation made him angry. A knot starts to tie up in your stomach as you force yourself to speak on your thoughts. “I’m sorry I got scared before.”

Quickly, Din looks up from his work, shaking his helmet as he hurries over and kneels in front of you. “No,  _ cyar’ika _ , that’s not what I meant,” he insists, taking off his helmet quickly to show you the honesty in his dark gaze. One of his gloved hands settles on your cheek to keep your gaze locked on his. “I’m not upset with you.” You release the breath you’d been holding, your slight frown turning into a smile when Din kisses your forehead for further reassurance. “I… was more projecting my own feelings, I suppose.”

You furrow your brow at him. “What do you mean?” After searching his eyes for a moment, you come to your answer. “Oh. You were talking about your own people, weren’t you?”

Din nods, his gaze falling for a moment as your heart sinks in your chest. You lean forward to rest your bare forehead against his, encouraging him to look into your gaze once again as he elaborates. “If becoming a Mandalorian has taught me one thing, it’s how important culture is,” Din tells you softly, “even if you’re not born into it. I just… I really wish more people valued that,  _ cyare _ .”

“I understand,” you remark, your voice barely above a hushed whisper as you free a hand from the baby to cup his cheek.

“The galaxy is full of so many different species and cultures and… such fascinating things,” Din continues. The light in his eyes as he speaks makes your heart practically burst. “My parents always used to tell me stories. They came to love other cultures like they were their own. Becoming a Mandalorian just emphasized that for me.” He then blinks a few times, the amazement fading from his eyes as he shakes his head. “Never mind me,  _ riduur _ , I’m rambling.”

“ _ K’uur _ , Din,” you urge him softly.  _ Hush _ . “We’ve talked about this. I love your rambles.” You kiss his nose. “Especially about your parents and your culture.”

Din beams at that, releasing a soft breath as he loses himself in your eyes—which isn’t an unusual occurrence. It always warms your chest in a way you can’t quite describe now that you can actually watch his dark eyes admire you so deeply. “Thank you,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” he whispers, taking your face by your chin to place a kiss so soft upon your lips that it’s barely felt before he only slightly pulls away, his nose brushing against yours. “If we weren’t guests of this settlement in the middle of the dune sea, I would stay here with you and thank you  _ properly _ .” He kisses you once more before continuing. “But we should let our hosts entertain us.”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile before you kiss him one last time. Din slides the helmet back on and helps you to stand before he leads the way out of the tent. You walk towards the fire where the Tuskens still sit, taking the two places they’ve set for you. Din takes your hand to help you to sit—in the way he always does, even though he knows it’s unnecessary—and takes his place beside you. The Tuskens look curiously at the bundle in your arms and you.

The Tuskens and Din then exchange a few words, the grunting and growling from Din’s modulator still sounding foreign yet somehow also endearing to you. You watch with innocent awe as one of the Tuskens takes something that’s small and green and uses their gloved thumbs to break it open. They hand it to Din who then hands it to you. With a wrinkled brow, you look at him.

“They’d like you to drink this,” Din instructs you. “It’s a sign of your mutual agreement of peace—like friendship.” He pauses, his gloved hands fiddling with each other almost nervously as he goes on. “I would do it myself, too, but… they know why I can’t.”

You nod, smiling a bit as you look down at the item in your hand. Its smell is rather foul, in a way that makes your stomach twist a bit, but you refuse to reject it as you instead hold in a breath and take a sip. You keep your face from morphing into disgust as you instead smile wider, handing it back to Din who then hands it back to the Tuskens. They say something to Din, causing him to tilt his helmet as he looks back to you.

“They say thank you,” Din informs you, causing your smile to stay as you nod at them.

“Can you say the same thing to them?” you ask, your voice just a bit smaller than usual in your sudden shyness. You’re not used to the back-and-forth translating—even from your time spent as a princess—and you wish you could speak to them just as Din can. “For letting us stay?”

Din nods, turning back to the Tuskens and signing something while speaking in their dialect. They go back and forth a few times before Din stops again to fill you in. “They say it’s no problem—but they’d like to know a little more about you.”

You nod. “Yeah, of course. Can you tell them that I—.”

“I’ll tell them,” Din insists, already starting to speak to them with a long series of grunts and growls. It sounds like he’s telling them an entire story as he goes on, leaving you to wonder exactly what’s being said as he speaks. When he finally finishes, the Tuskens take a moment amongst themselves to absorb it, looking at you for a while before they respond. Your fingers pick almost nervously at the blankets swaddled around the baby—who’s since peacefully fallen asleep in your arms.

“What’d you say?” you ask, watching Din turn back to you as his helmet stays tilted in a fond manner.

“The truth,” Din answers simply, shrugging as he speaks. “That you’re strong, kind, loyal, all of those things.”

You wince, feeling embarrassed as you hide your face in the cloth of his arm. “ _ Din _ ,” you whimper, hearing him chuckle softly as a gloved hand reaches over to rest gently on your knee.

“It’s all right,  _ ner kar’ta _ ,” Din assures you. “Don’t be embarrassed. They said that they think you’re lovely and perfectly suited for a Mandalorian. They also asked if you  _ are  _ one.”

You lift your face at that, thankful when he keeps his hand on your knee as you raise an eyebrow at him. “And what did you say to that?”

Din runs his thumb over your leg, and you can picture his gaze so soft underneath his helmet as he answers. “I told them you have the heart of a Mandalorian.”

You beam at that, for a moment completely forgetting where you are as you urge Din’s helmet to meet your forehead. Your gaze melts into his visor before you close your eyes, absorbing his touch and yearning for what you know you could have if you were alone. It’s only when you hear the sound of softer Tusken sounds that you remember your hosts, your face heating up as you pull away from Din. Still, he keeps his hand where it is, even as the Tuskens speak to him. Din chuckles, causing you to look over at him again with curiosity. “What?”

“They said we’re… well, that we’re  _ cute _ .” Din nearly sounds shy as he confesses this, making you laugh softly as you hide in his arm again to conceal your embarrassment. Din lets you keep hiding there as he responds to them, and they go back-and-forth a few times before Din rests his helmet on top of your head to speak to you again. “They’re urging us to rest,” Din informs you, causing you to lift your head again as you nod at him.

“Can you tell them goodnight?” you request, and Din nods before he growls and grunts at them. They make the same sound back, making you smile as Din starts to help you up from your place beside him. He laces his gloved fingers with yours on the way back to your tent, holding the flap open for you and letting it fall behind him.

With a sigh, you set the wrapped-up baby inside his bag, letting it lay flat on the ground so he can continue sleeping peacefully. When you turn back to Din, he’s already ridding himself of his armor, piling it up near your other belongings. Once his armor’s off, he slides off his shirt and tosses that to you, which you catch swiftly as you substitute that for your usual clothes. It’s a routine of yours; Din’s always been more comfortable sleeping without a shirt, and you’ve always been more comfortable sleeping with his. 

Once you’re both ready, you sit on the bed Din had fashioned before, though you sit with your legs crossed as Din raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Why do I have a feeling you’re not ready to sleep yet,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din asks, amusement evidence in both his voice and his gaze as he tilts his head at you. He keeps his voice low enough to mind the sleeping baby who’s not too far away from you.

You smile sheepishly at him, pressing your hands against the blankets as you straighten out your arms and lift your shoulders. “Can you teach me Tusken?” you start to plead, also keeping your voice rather hushed as you sit there.

Din bites back a smile and starts to shake his head. “ _ Cyar’ika _ , we really ought to get some sleep—.”

“Oh,  _ please _ , Din?” you beg, pouting dramatically as you scoot closer to where he sits across from you on the bed until your knees knock against his. “Just a little bit. I really want to be able to at least say ‘thank you.’”

You know Din won’t be able to resist you, and so he sighs, pretending to be exasperated—and failing. “All right,  _ ner kar’ta _ . Just a little bit.” You nod excitedly, hearing him chuckle before he clears his throat. “This is gonna be hard with the little one sleeping.”

“We’ll just be quiet,” you assure him.

“Tusken isn’t exactly quiet,” Din reminds you.

“Well… we’ll try.”

Din shakes his head with a fond smile. “Ah,  _ ner atin rid’ika _ .”  _ My stubborn little wife.  _ “Okay. The sound has to come from  _ here _ .” Din demonstrates by placing his hands against his stomach, lifting a bit higher to extend his diaphragm. You mirror him, nodding with eyes that are narrowed in focus. “Now,  _ this  _ series of sounds means ‘thank you.’” Din goes on to grunt and growl in a pattern you remember hearing before. He repeats it a few times before he gestures to you.

You try your hand at it—and upon the first attempt of your grunt, you watch Din absolutely  _ lose it  _ in front of you. His dark eyes light up with amusement as he covers his mouth with his hand, closing his eyes while he tries his hardest not to laugh. You can’t help starting to laugh with him, attempting to stay quiet so as to not wake the baby while you try to speak. “What,  _ riduur? _ ”

Din needs a few moments to compose himself, running the hand from his mouth over his head as he answers you. “I’m sorry, I just… I hadn’t prepared myself well enough yet.” Din clears his throat again, trying to bite back his smile as he nods. “Try again.”

You nod, clearing your own throat before you attempt the grunt and growls again. This time, Din nearly squeals in his effort to keep his laughter suppressed, one hand holding his stomach and the other covering his face. He leans forward dramatically until the top of his head rests against your stomach. You try your hardest not to laugh with him, running your hands over his shoulders and back to try to soothe his amused state. “Din!” you exclaim in a hushed voice, giggling a few times. “Why do you keep laughing?” You’re not upset in the slightest, but when he sits back up again, you still pout dramatically at him.

“I’m truly sorry,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din apologizes sincerely, taking your face between his hands. “It’s hard to stay serious when you have to stay quiet.” You narrow your eyes playfully, prepared to make some kind of comeback about how you’ve remained serious in silent situations a few times before—but Din keeps going. “I’m not used to hearing your sweet voice roughen up like that. That’s all.”

You try your best to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks at his kind words, instead nodding as he leaves a quick kiss on your nose and sits back where he was before. “I get it. But, just two words, Din. That’s all I want!”

“I know,  _ cyare _ . Go ahead.”

You take a deep breath, somehow getting Din to remain serious as you sound it out. Din corrects you lightly in a few places, and soon you’ve got the better pronunciation down. He also teaches you the sign so they won’t get confused should your pronunciation get confusing. You even hold it together long enough to learn “hello” and “goodbye.” That’s when  _ you  _ become the one to break your serious streak, trying to hold back a sly smile as you look at Din. “Can you teach me one more phrase?”

Din nods. “Of course,  _ riduur _ . You’re doing great so far.”

You beam, almost wishing you’re about to be more serious at the kind look in his eye. But then you observe more of him again and your sly smile sticks. “I want to know how to say…” you trail off, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder with your fingertips and let them glide down his arm, “‘you’ve gotten really strong.’”

Your gaze leaves your hand for a moment to watch as Din’s face reddens slightly. He shakes his head, chuckling as he raises an eyebrow. “I’ve always been strong.”

“I know,” you respond, looking down at his arm again as you make your touch upon his bicep more firm. “But, now…” you trail off, letting your touch do the rest of the talking as your fingers run over a ripple of muscle.

“ _ Cyar’ika _ …” Din trails off in a warning tone, his hand capturing your wrist in a firm yet delicate manner as his gaze slightly darkens at you. “ _ Cuy ulyc _ .”  _ Be careful. _

“I thought we proved that we can stay quiet,” you insist, raising your brow as you lean over the space between you to let your lips hover over his.

Though he’s hesitant, Din still gives into the motion, his lips covering yours in an achingly slow and almost lazy manner as he keeps trying to speak against your mouth. “We… can’t,” Din says, his voice a breathless whisper, especially when you make the move to grab his shoulders and lay back so he’s hovering over you. The kiss becomes firmer, one of your hands remaining on his shoulder and brushing over the muscles there as the other tangles itself in his curls.

“It’s fine,” you assure him with a breath, eagerly seeking his mouth again as you hum with satisfaction.

Din’s hand has already met your waist as the other supports himself, yet he still forces himself to break away from you for a moment to speak again. “The baby’s right over there,” he reminds you, gesturing with his head to the bag that sits on the sand just a few paces away. “We  _ can’t _ .”

You grunt with frustration when Din completely breaks away from you, laying beside you and pulling you into him. You’re still insistent upon giving him some sort of display of affection, so you lay upon his chest as you press kisses to the warm skin there, smiling when he himself hums with delight and runs a hand over your hair. “I really…” you pause to press a kiss to his skin, “really…” another, “ _ really _ …” one more, “love you, Din.”

It’s then that Din takes your face between his hands, encouraging your forehead to meet his as he smiles warmly at you. “I love you too,  _ rid’ika _ . More than words can allow.” He gives you one last yet sweet kiss, tucking your head under his chin as he wraps you up in his arms afterwards. “And because of that, I must urge you to  _ rest _ .”

You giggle tiredly, nodding as your exhaustion from before finally creeps up on you again. Almost as soon as you close your eyes, you nod off, completely enveloped in the one who brings you the most comfort.

You set off rather early the next morning—after getting the opportunity to thank the Tuskens  _ yourself _ . Din tells you of their excitement upon hearing that you’d learned a part of their language, something that already makes your day as you get closer and closer to Mos Pelgo.

It’s when the village comes into sight that you feel a new pit in your stomach, your view over Din’s shoulder somewhat hard to see but still apparent. From here, it looks both small and abandoned, though when the speeder gets closer, you can see the people who duck out from their homes to watch the three of you approach. You resist the urge to shrink into Din’s form, instead studying the people closely as he lets the speeder move slowly.

“Are you getting the same feeling I’m getting?” you ask in a hushed tone, not wanting to alert the villagers to your conversation.

“Yeah,” Din remarks, flexing his wrists on the handles before he stops the speeder beside a cantina. “Something’s…  _ off _ .”

You nod to agree, getting off the speeder and taking the baby into your arms. Din leads the way into the cantina as you follow close behind, walking past him when he stops to face the bartender. You and the baby stand at his right side, listening as Din addresses the man who’s now stopped what he’s doing to listen to Din. “Can I help you?” the man asks, his voice sounding wary yet also friendly.

“We’re looking for a Mandalorian,” Din informs him, his voice gruff as he speaks. You nearly shake your head at the sound of it. He’s always tougher with others than he is with you and the baby.

“Well, we don’t get many visitors in these parts,” the man answers, looking rather confused as he stares at Din. Din looks to you for a moment, and you shrug before the man goes on. “Can you describe him?”

Din stares back at the man, remaining silent for a long moment before he clearly resists the urge to heave a frustrated breath. “Someone who looks like  _ me _ .”

The man hums thoughtfully. “You mean the Marshal?”

You raise an eyebrow as Din lifts his helmet slightly in interest. “Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?”

The man turns towards the doorway, grunting as he does so. “See for yourself.”

Din turns to face the doorway just as you do, your eyes widening as a silhouette stands there—a silhouette fashioned with Mandalorian armor.

You’ve either found your first lead or Din’s newest victim.


	26. The Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din strikes a deal with a new ally, one that requires him and the princess to be involved with a lot more action than they initially thought.

Din and the man in Mandalorian armor stare at each other for a few tense moments, causing you to hold the baby tighter as he releases a quiet coo of concern. The man then walks forward, approaching Din slowly before he speaks.

“What brings you here, stranger?” he says, his drawl present even through his helmet as he stops to stare at Din again.

Din hesitates, his fingers drumming on the countertop before he offers his reply. “I’ve been searching for you for many parsecs,” Din answers. You assume he only left you out of his response just in case this man should be different than he appears—and Din wants to be the only one to have to answer to that. It’s not the first time Din’s had to do such a thing before.

“Well, now you found me,” the man answers, walking up to the bar and nodding at the bartender. “Weequay, two snorts of spotchka.”

You furrow your brow upon hearing him make such a request. There’s no way for either one of them to enjoy spotchka—unless this man isn’t actually as he appears. Din seems to come to the same conclusion as the man accepts the jug and two cups Weequay set up for him, taking them in his hands before addressing Din again.

“Why don’t you join me for a drink?” the man asks, gesturing with his helmet to a nearby table. Din doesn’t move, simply turning in place and watching as the man takes a seat.

Eventually, Din starts to walk forward, but stops abruptly when the man reaches up to take his helmet off. You hold your breath as he does so, slowly watching as he slides the helmet off and sets it on the table. The man’s got grey hair on his head and his face with a smile that you know would charm anyone who’s not already in love with someone else. He looks up at Din with eyes narrowed in a way you can’t quite read from where you stand.

“I’ve never met a real Mandalorian,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice as he offers Din a nod. “Heard stories.” He reaches for the spotchka, opening it and starting to distribute it. “I know you’re good at killin’.” You raise an eyebrow at that.  _ At least he’s aware of what’ll probably happen in a few minutes.  _ “And probably none too happy to see me wearing this hardware.”

You can sense Din’s unease that matches your own, the feeling almost sickly in your chest as you watch someone openly disrespect his Creed. Din’s told you about non-Mandalorians wearing their armor—and you know enough to conclude that he’s likely fuming underneath his own beskar.

The man sets down the spotchka, sighing before he lifts a hand to gesture to Din. “I figure only one of us walkin’ out of here,” he states, furrowing his brow as he looks at Din.

Your Mandalorian still hasn’t spoken yet, but he does shift his position, leaning on his hip as he stares the man down. The man’s gaze switches from Din to you and the baby, making your own chin lift as you glare back at him.

“But then I see the lady and the little guy—,” he pauses as the baby coos, and you gently shush him with a raised brow, “—and I think, maybe I pegged you wrong.” His gaze shifts back to Din, his brow furrowing again as he sets a snort of spotchka in Din’s unused place.

You can see Din’s fingers curl into a fist at his side as he finally speaks. “Who are you?” You can tell both by Din’s stiffness and his tone that he’s not in the mood to entertain any conversation other than that of his armor. It sends a chill down your spine.

“I’m Cobb Vanth,” the man answers, holding his snort of spotchka in his hand as he speaks. “Marshal of Mos Pelgo.” He toasts the drink in Din’s direction before taking a sip.

“Where did you get the armor?” Din questions sharply.

“Bought it off some Jawas,” Cobb answers simply, taking another sip of his spotchka.

Din remains silent for a moment before he speaks in a voice that makes a knot form in your stomach. “Hand it over.”

Cobb looks at Din for a moment before chuckling, finally setting his snort down onto the table as he faces Din with a small fire in his gaze. “Look, pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from—but ‘round here,  _ I’m  _ the one who tells folks what to do.”

Din remains still and silent. Then, he takes a step forward, his helmet lifting a bit as he stares Cobb down. “Take it off.” He pauses, leaning on his hip again and nodding his helmet to refer to Cobb’s armor. “Or  _ I  _ will.”

You hate the way the words tie up a different kind of knot inside your stomach, your eyes widening a bit as you sink your teeth into your lip. Cobb just lifts his brow, using a finger to point to both you and the baby without looking away from Din. “We gonna do this in front o’ the kid—and your pretty little lady?”

You open your mouth to speak, but Din beats you to it. “That’s my  _ wife _ ,” Din corrects him curtly, both his hands curling up into fists now as he lowers his helmet at Cobb, “and they’ve seen worse.” He nods as he says his last few words, challenging Cobb to disobey his demands.

Cobb looks around and gestures to the cantina with his hand. “Right here, then?”

“Right here.”

You grimace, wanting to step in and tell Din to find some other way, but you know this means too much to his culture—and you wouldn’t dare try to tell him how he should deal with those who disrespect everything he stands for. Cobb sighs, moving to stand as he forces his stool further behind him. He remains still as he stares Din down, who does the same thing to him in return. The tension is so thick you’re certain you could cut it with your knife, the baby cooing in a slightly distressed manner as he looks up at you. You run a reassuring hand over his head, smiling a bit to make him feel more at ease. The baby relaxes at that, allowing you to look back at your husband and his current enemy.

But just as Cobb’s hands flutter over his holster, the whole building suddenly starts to shake. You hold onto the counter with your free arm, your eyes widening as you look around. Din immediately turns to you, evidently trying to make sure you and the baby are all right. You nod at him, letting him look back to Cobb. He holds up a single finger at Din before walking to the doorway of the cantina. Din follows him, and once you get your feet steadier on the shaking ground, you follow as well. You stand close behind Din as you look at whatever’s going on—having to lift yourself on the balls of your feet to get a better look over his shoulder.

There’s a ripple going through the sands of Mos Pelgo, almost as if there’s something traveling beneath it. You feel your heart fall to your stomach as you come upon a realization. During your time on Tatooine before you knew Din, you’d heard of such a creature, one of many reasons why you never truly left the walls of Mos Eisley. After it ripples past you and heads towards a bantha, crashing through the sand to eat it whole, you know your fears are confirmed.

It’s a krayt dragon.

Once it disappears, Cobb heaves a breath, nodding a bit as he speaks to Din. “Maybe we can work something out,” he insists, turning around to head back inside the cantina. Din turns to you, sharing a worrisome glance before you follow him.

Inside the cantina, Cobb properly introduces himself to you. You do the same for him. Instinctively, he takes your hand as if he’s about to kiss it, but then catches Din’s visor fixed on him and decides against it. You nearly laugh, knowing Din wouldn’t be so opposed to such a thing had they not almost tussled a few minutes ago  _ and  _ had he not referred to you as a “pretty little lady.” With time, you hope you’ll both be able to trust Cobb a little more.

He walks you both out of the cantina, the baby eager to walk alongside you now as you follow close behind the Marshal and your husband. Cobb tells you of the krayt dragon’s history with Mos Pelgo, the way it’s been terrorizing them since even before the settlement was established. He explains that with the help of the armor, he’s been protecting the people from bandits and Tuskens—or, Sand People as he calls them—before he stops, turning to face the two of you with a furrowed brow.

“Help me kill the dragon, and I’ll give you the armor,” Cobb proposes, looking pointedly at Din but not leaving you out of it. The holster hanging at your side is evident, and even if he might’ve underestimated you earlier, you’re sure he doesn’t now that he knows you’re married to a Mandalorian.

Din takes a moment to think, immediately looking over at you to get your input. You shrug at him, trusting his judgment. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve helped a village, a thought that sends a quick pang of what feels like homesickness through your chest. Din turns back to Cobb, nodding once before answering. “Deal,” he assures him. “We’ll ride back to the ship, blow it out of the sand from the sky, use the bantha as bait.”

While you’re amazed at how quickly Din came up with his plan, Cobb grimaces, looking beyond Din as he replies. “Not so simple,” Cobb informs you. “The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations, stays underground.” Cobb pauses, circling his jaw before going on. “But I know where it lives.”

Din looks quickly to you for a moment and then back to Cobb. “How far?”

Cobb tilts his head, standing up from where he’s been leaning against a post as he provides his answer. “Not far.”

You raise an eyebrow.  _ That’s helpful _ .

Nevertheless, you head back to the speeder with Din and the baby, setting the child in his bag before you take your place behind Din. Your arms are tight around Din as he takes off, not bothering to wait for Cobb—despite the fact  _ he’s  _ the one who’s leading you to the krayt. You scoff, speaking over the wind as you talk to Din.

“You just had to show your dominance, didn’t you?” you half-joke, giving him a squeeze with your arms. Din doesn’t even chuckle and you can picture his eyes narrowed beneath the helmet. You huff, starting to loosen your arms around him instead. Immediately, Din removes a hand from the bike to press your hands tight against him, making you bite back a smile as you raise an eyebrow. “You’re being protective,  _ riduur _ —more than usual.”

Din shrugs, looking over his shoulder to see Cobb approaching in the distance. “He needs to prove his character to me.” Before you can jump in, he tilts his helmet towards you. “I know you’re more than capable of judging him for yourself, but after he referred to you with such a title, I’m choosing to stay skeptical.”

“Din,” you scold softly with a laugh. “That’s probably just what he’s used to out here. Their dialect might be different.”

“Then they should rethink their dialect,” Din insists. You would be frustrated if you didn’t know his stubbornness on the issue was simply rooted in his desire for you to be respected by others the way he respects you.

You stop when Cobb finally pulls up alongside you both, sharing a glance with Din before he speeds ahead a bit. Din’s hands flex on the speeder as he resists the urge to regain the lead, making you shake your head to yourself again as you keep your grip on him tight.

“You don’t understand what it was like,” Cobb suddenly says, capturing both your attention and Din’s as he begins to tell you his story. “The town was on its last legs. It started after we got news of the Death Star blowin’ up—the second one, that is.”

Cobb details his experience of what happened that night, with the Mining Collective moving in and taking over Mos Pelgo. He tells you how he just barely escaped with his life and a camtono of crystals, having to wander the desert for days without food or water. That’s when he was found by the Jawas, who then sold him the armor in exchange for the crystals. He returned to Mos Pelgo and was able to rid the town of the Mining Collective’s threat, which has put him where he is now. You know it couldn’t have been an easy experience, which gives you respect for him in the way he’s handled it. Din remains silent as you become the one who asks him questions. “So, you’ve been on Tatooine your whole life?” you question.

“Yup,” Cobb answers with a nod. “I’ve never known nothin’ but sand and the suns.”

“I have to admit, it wasn’t the ideal place for me when I was bit younger,” you assure him.

Cobb raises his brow, quickly glancing at you from where he’s steering. “You lived on Tatooine?”

“Only for a short while, a few years ago,” you tell him. “Just before the first Death Star blew up.”

“Ah, almost seems like yesterday,” Cobb sighs. “What brought you here, if you don’t mind my askin’?”

“I don’t mind,” you assure him. You can feel Din tense up a bit, but you run your thumbs over his middle, telling him that it’s all right. “I was forced to flee here after my home was destroyed.”

Cobb gives you a quick look of sympathy. “Alderaan?”

You shake your head. “Arilia.”

You can see his gaze fill with slight realization as his hands tighten on the handles he’s steering. “Arilia,” he echoes. “I think I remember hearin’ that someone from Arilia was on Tatooine.” He gives you another quick glance. “A  _ princess _ .”

Din tightens up so much that you can feel the effect of it on the speed of the bike. You soothe him by tightening your grip on him and resting your cheek against his shoulder blade, nodding at Cobb with a small smile. “That would be me.”

Cobb gapes at you as he raises his brow. “The princess? Wow. I think a lot of folks thought that you were dead.”

You shrug. “I probably would be—if it wasn’t for all the training I got during my time here.”

“Impressive.” Cobb freezes, narrowing his eyes at you. “Should I be usin’ some fancy titles, or—?”

“No, please don’t,” you insist with a chuckle. “I retired those when Arilia was destroyed.”

Cobb nods respectfully, continuing ahead before he looks at you again. “Just one more question.” You nod, lifting an eyebrow as he continues. “How do a princess and a Mandalorian… ya’ know….” he looks between the two of you, “ _ meet? _ ”

“That would be courtesy of the little green baby,” you offer with a giggle. “But that’s a story for another time.” Cobb just nods again, acknowledging your desire to drop the subject as he continues ahead. You turn your face back towards Din, attempting to rest your chin on his shoulder as you speak to just him. “See? He respects us just fine. I think he’s trustworthy.”

Din sighs. “Well, I trust your judgment,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” he assures you lowly. “I suppose he’s off the hook—for now.”

You laugh, squeezing him again before you rest your face against his back for the rest of the trip. Cobb and Din begin to slow down when they reach a canyon of rocks, weaving their ways cautiously through the landscape. It’s when a loud growl echoes through the rocks that Cobb lifts his arm, signaling Din to stop as well as himself. Din’s quick to hop off the bike, and you follow as he grabs his pulse rifle and aims it ahead. You do the same with your blaster, nearly scoffing at how mere your little weapon looks beside his. Cobb’s also got his own weapon out, also aimed at the source of the growl. You wait in anticipation as a massiff soon comes into view, opening their mouth wide as they release a growl that threatens to trigger your fight-or-flight.

But then, you recognize them, and you swear you saw them the night before at the Tusken settlement.

Your theory’s confirmed when Din starts to lower the rifle, especially once more come into sight. You lower your blaster, looking over at Din to see him looking at you. He nods, as if he’s reading your mind. You nod back at him, holstering your blaster as he lifts his hand to his helmet. With a deep breath, Din releases a loud growl of his own—nearly catching you off guard with how loud it is. Cobb looks at him like he’s grown two heads, especially once he leaves you with the rifle and steps around the bike to approach the massiffs.

“What the hell you doin’?” Cobb questions, still eyeing Din suspiciously. Your husband simply lifts a hand to reassure him, continuing to approach the massiffs before he stands still in front of them. He reaches into the pouch on his belt where he keeps little snacks for the baby, instead grabbing one to give to the massiffs. He growls and grunts at them in Tusken, earning the first one’s trust as it bounds over joyfully to him. You can’t help smiling as Din kneels down to meet it, feeding it the treat before petting it fondly.

That’s when the Tuskens walk out, causing Cobb’s eyes to widen even more. You catch his gaze, giving him a reassuring nod as Din starts to communicate with them. After they go back-and-forth a few times, Cobb begins to get fed up on being left out.

“Hey, partner,” Cobb calls out to Din. “You want to tell us what’s goin’ on?”

Din turns his helmet to face Cobb. “They want to kill the krayt dragon, too,” Din answers. Cobb gives a suspicious look—but you chalk that up to what he’d mentioned back in Mos Pelgo about having to defend his people from them.

“They’re really lovely once you get to know them,” you assure Cobb in a low voice, watching him give you a nod that’s almost completely void of emotion.

Soon, you’re on your way to the Tusken settlement, where your family and Cobb are each given their own respective tents. You settle your belongings inside before you sit by the fire they’ve set up. Din sits upon a box they’ve given him while you sit on the ground in the space between his legs, your head gently resting against one of his knees as the baby sits in your lap. Cobb sits beside Din, watching as Din and the Tuskens go back-and-forth. He still seems suspicious towards the Tuskens—though you know there’s no easy way for you to convince him to trust them, especially if they’ve already had strife.

Just like they’d done for you, they crack open the green object with their thumbs, handing it over to Cobb. He holds it with evident confusion, sniffing it before leaning over to Din and whispering his words. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You drink it,” Din responds in a matter-of-fact tone. You give his calf a squeeze, a signal to be a little less intense with him.

“It  _ stinks _ ,” Cobb mutters.

Din holds back a sigh and you can tell by the way he says his next words. “Do you want their help?”

Cobb’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “Not if I have to drink this,” he confesses.

Your own frustration starts to rise, especially as the Tuskens themselves start to get angry. Din translates with a tone that’s increasingly accusatory towards Cobb. “He says your people steal their water,” Din informs him, “and now you insult them by not drinking it.”

The Tuskens continue to sign. Cobb’s expression is unreadable, though he appears to have a mixture of guilt, fear, and anger present.

“They know about Mos Pelgo,” Din goes on. “They know how many Sand People you killed.”

That’s when Cobb starts to get defensive. You can feel your own anxiety rising at the sight of this strife. “They raided our village,” Cobb insists. “I defended the town!”

“ _ Lower  _ your  _ voice _ ,” Din demands with a hand extended towards Cobb, though it’s almost no use.

“I  _ knew  _ this was a bad idea,” Cobb continues to rant, throwing the drink into the fire. You nearly gasp at his actions, holding the baby close when he starts to fuss thanks to the rising tension of the situation.

“You’re agitating them,” Din warns, getting more frustrated by the moment.

“These monsters can’t be reasoned with!” Cobb exclaims, standing up to face-off with a Tusken.

“They’re not monsters,” you assure him with a voice that’s firm yet sincere. “They’re just mis—.”

“You ain’t seen what I have!” Cobb cuts you off, turning to you for a moment before he faces the Tusken again.

“You do  _ not  _ cut off and disrespect my wife,” Din nearly growls at Cobb, his own agitation about to reach its peak as Cobb appears to have not heard Din at all.

“Sit back down before I put a hole through ya’!” Cobb asserts to the Tusken, his eyes ablaze just like the fire as he and the Tusken go back-and-forth. Din nudges your head gently with his knee, causing you to look at him as he gestures with his helmet to the side. You move a little bit to the left, soon realizing why. “I’m not goin’ to say it—.”

That’s when Din steps in, igniting his flamethrower as he slowly stands from his place on the box. Both you and the baby squint at the bright light of the flames, staying safely tucked away from it as Din gains everyone’s attention. When he lets it go out, he faces the Tusken, signing and growling to them aggressively to show his severity. Cobb looks guiltily over at his new partner.

“What are you tellin’ them?” Cobb questions.

“Same thing I’m telling you,” Din scolds. “If we fight amongst ourselves, the monster will kill us all.” His words get Cobb and the Tusken to cool down, also sitting where they were before as Din remains standing for the moment. He begins to sign even as he speaks in Basic. “Now, how do we kill it?” He looks around the fire, waiting for their ideas.

Din only sits back down when they get back into civil conversation with him. You return to your place between his legs, your head resting against his knee again as you listen in. Din translates for you and Cobb, though the longer you sit there with the warmth of the fire and Din’s body, the easier it becomes for you to nod off. You’re interested in the plans, though you know Din will fill you in later. Eventually, you do fall into a light sleep as the baby also does with you, your head still resting against Din’s knee.

Meanwhile, Din finishes up the discussion, deciding to stake out at the krayt’s lair the next day. When he looks down to you, he realizes you’re asleep. A warm smile appears on his lips beneath the helmet, his gloved hand instinctively and softly coming down to your head as he gently runs it through your hair to further soothe you. He’s so wrapped up in you and your peaceful state that he doesn’t feel the piercing gaze in his side for a few long moments. When Din does look up and over at Cobb, he sees his nearly smug expression, an eyebrow raised as he observes Din’s affectionate actions.

“Not a  _ word  _ from you, Vanth,” Din asserts, pointing an accusatory finger at his new ally.

Cobb raises his hands in surrender. “You’ll get nothin’ from me, partner,” he assures Din. “Though, it  _ is  _ nice to see that Mandalorians are also good at somethin’ other than killin’.”

Din looks back to you at that, smiling more to himself and nodding as he keeps running his hand over your head. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Din waits until Cobb retires for the night to do the same, making sure the baby’s still secure in your arms as he goes to pick you up. The Tuskens bid him goodnight as he rests your head upon his pauldron, and he nods at them before he starts to bring you both to your tent. Still, the sudden movements are enough to make you stir, causing you to wince in embarrassment as you bury your face in the cloth of Din’s neck. “You could’ve woken me up,” you insist, your voice muffled by his neck in a way that makes Din chuckle.

“Hm… no,” Din concludes, smiling to himself underneath the helmet as he approaches your tent. “I wanted to at least try to keep you asleep.”

You shake your head, nestling yourself further into his form as he slips past the flap of the tent. Gently, Din eases you down on your makeshift bed first, tending to the baby—who doesn’t have a single chance of waking up in his deep slumber—and then returning to you. You’re still half-asleep as Din removes his armor, slipping off his helmet last as he runs the usual routine of removing his shirt for you. He’s the one this time who exchanges your clothes for his, letting you nearly doze off in his arms already.

By the time he rests beside you and pulls you into his embrace, you’re almost completely asleep, your head tucking naturally under his chin as he keeps you as close as possible. Yet, you still take him by surprise when you speak in a quiet and croaky voice.

“Din?” you call for him, your hand tiredly playing with the Mythosaur necklace he hasn’t taken off tonight.

“Yeah,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din answers, running a hand over the back of your head as he awaits your words.

“When we fight this thing,” you say, the sleepiness in your voice nearly making Din’s chest ache as he presses a gentle kiss to your head, “please be careful.”

Din can’t help smiling at your protectiveness over him. It’s nearly as strong as his own over you, now. “I will. Just rest,  _ ner kar’ta _ .”

“M’kay,” you agree, making Din chuckle. “I… I love you, Din.”

Din presses a series of soft kisses to your head in response to that. “I love you too,  _ riduur _ .  _ Nuhoy _ .”  _ Sleep _ .

As he watches you completely drift off to sleep in his arms, Din can’t help dwelling on your words—trying to ignore the knot in his stomach that they tied up. The closer you’ve all become, the more Din’s hated to take these kinds of risks, and he can only pray to the Maker that he can manage to get all three of you out of this situation safe.


	27. The Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Djarin clan, Cobb, and other allies face off against the krayt dragon.

The next day, you’re already headed back to Mos Pelgo, having convened with the Tuskens after seeing the krayt dragon’s lair. Din had already caught you up on the plans you’d missed the night before—through many kisses, as is Din’s most effective way to communicate in the mornings—and now, you’re prepared to recruit the villagers’ help to make this takedown possible.

It’s like Sorgan all over again.

And in every way for you, too. That dread you’d faced during that time leading up to the attack of the raiders is no different than the one you face now. There’s a feeling of fear that fills you nearly to the brim, causing your grip on Din’s middle to be even tighter than usual as you ride back to Mos Pelgo.

“Something wrong, _cyar’ika?_ ” Din asks you loud enough to be heard over the rushing wind but quiet enough to keep it between you and him. You can see his wrists adjust on the handles in an anxious manner.

You release a gentle sigh, not wanting to worry Din but also not wanting to lie to him as you rest your chin atop the clothed part of his shoulder. “Remember Sorgan, the first time?” you ask, earning a nod before you elaborate. “We would have those talks before the fight, and I always talked about how I was afraid of something changing.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Din agrees, freeing one hand from the bike quickly to brush it over yours. “You’re not afraid of something changing again, are you? Because that won’t happen.”

“No.” You’re quick to refute Din’s words as you sink your teeth into your lower lip, trying to think of how you can possibly describe your feelings in a way that’ll make sense. “I… I’m not sure what I’m afraid of, Din. But I have a bad feeling about all this.”

“I’m sure it’ll be all right, _riduur_.” Din leans back in an attempt to touch part of his helmet to your head. “We happen to be pretty damn good at helping villages out.”

You laugh at that, shaking your head in amazement at the way Din’s able to rid you of at least some of the heavy dread that sits on your shoulders. You’d say more if you weren’t already rolling into town, where Cobb’s started to tell you more about the past tensions between Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens.

“They attacked us less than a year ago,” Cobb explains, pulling his makeshift speeder over and to a halt as he looks over at you and Din. “Killed half a dozen of us by the mining camp.” Cobb pauses, sitting back in his seat and looking ahead with a gaze that’s nearly full of guilt. “I’d say I took down about twice as many Tuskens.” He then stands and gets off of his speeder, a worried look fixed on his features in a way that makes you and Din share a look of concern.

“The town respects you,” Din insists, earning Cobb’s attention for a moment. “My guess is, they’ll listen to reason.”

“And strong leadership,” you add, and Din nods in agreement.

Cobb knocks his fist against the speeder with a raised brow, looking between the two of you with doubt. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Cobb remarks, walking away to gather everyone into the cantina. You and Din share another look before you get off the bike, taking the baby in your arms as you walk alongside Din towards the cantina.

Within just a few minutes, the entire town is packed inside, murmuring nervously amongst themselves as Cobb stands before them. You and Din stand just behind him, your free hand tight in his as you look out at the villagers. Din’s become much better about letting you show affection in such a way in public—only in places where he knows it’s safe. Evidently, Mos Pelgo isn’t a threat to him.

“This here is a Mandalorian,” Cobb finally begins, gesturing to Din in a way that makes everyone stare. You can hear the light breath Din takes, his helmet turning towards you in an almost shy manner. You give his gloved hand a quick squeeze. “You know what that means?”

“We’ve heard the stories,” Weequay answers for the villagers, earning a few nods in agreement.

“Then you know how good they are at killin’,” Cobb goes on. It creates a tension in the room as they look to Din. When they also look to you and the baby, however, you notice some confusion on their faces—as if the image of this Mandalorian holding hands with you while you hold a little green baby contradicts exactly what Cobb’s just said. “Now, this one’s got a problem.” Din looks back over to Cobb at that, his free hand rising to rest on his belt as you also look at the Marshal. “I got a suit o’ salvaged armor and the Mandalorian Creed says it’s his to take.”

This statement causes obvious distress amongst the villagers. You narrow your eyes at them, earning a squeeze from Din’s hand. When you turn to look at him, he tilts his helmet slightly at you, as if to tell you that it’s all right and you don’t need to get protective. Still, you bristle more than before, raising a wary brow at the villagers as you draw yourself a little closer to Din’s side.

“But I’ve got a problem, too,” Cobb says. “A krayt dragon has been peelin’ off our pack animals, and sometimes, takin’ our mining haul with it.” He pauses, looking at the villagers seriously before continuing. “It’s just a matter of time before it grows tired of banthas and goes after a couple of you townsfolk—or even, so help us, the school.”

There’s another murmuring of panic at that, the villagers shaking their heads in remorse at the idea of the dragon hurting their children. It even makes you pull the baby closer into your side, his little hand taking a hold of your thumb in a way that makes you smile widely down at him.

“As much as I’ve grown fond of the armor,” Cobb adds, “I’m even more fond of this town.” He pauses and takes a quick breath. “The Mandalorian is willing to help us slay the leviathan in exchange for returning the armor to its ancestral owners.”

The people start to nod at that, looking upon Din with kinder eyes now as they agree. “Well, that settles it,” Weequay insists, earning other mumbles of agreement.

“There’s more,” Cobb remarks. He takes a deeper breath this time before he continues. “We can’t take on the krayt alone… and the Sand People are willing to help.”

Instantly, the villagers start to protest, some even standing from their places as they wave their arms about in an angered manner. “They raid our mines!” one angry man exclaims, banging his fist upon a table to emphasize his point.

“They’re _monsters!_ ” Weequay adds, his words instantly making you stiffen alongside Din. You can feel the heat of anger brewing up inside you—especially upon remembering the kind and gentle way the Tuskens had welcomed you and Din into their camp the other night—and almost begin to speak. Yet, Din squeezes your hand before you can, causing you to look over at him as he gives you a nod. You immediately understand what he’s saying, releasing his hand to let him step forward.

“I’ve seen the size of that thing,” Din informs the villagers, making them all fall quiet as their eyes look upon him. “It’ll swallow your entire town when the fancy hits it. You’re lucky Mos Pelgo isn’t a sand field already.”

Din pauses and looks over at you, as if seeking your approval or judgment. You give him a nod and a small smile, encouraging him to keep going as he turns his helmet back to face the villagers.

“I know these people,” Din continues. “They _are_ brutal. But so is the Dune Sea. They’ve survived for thousands of years in these sands and they know the krayt dragon better than anyone here. They _are_ raiders, it’s true. But they also keep their word.” Din pauses, looking around the crowd before he goes on. “We have struck a deal. If we’re willing to leave them the carcass and its ichor, they will stand by our side in battle and vow never to raise a blaster against this town until one of _you_ breaks the peace.”

Din stops there, and the people begin to look amongst themselves. They start to mumble a rather reluctant agreement—but at least they’re accepting it. Din looks to Cobb and offers a nod before he turns to you again. You smile at him as you close the distance between you, pressing a hand to his cuirass as you speak. “Very well said, _riduur_ ,” you praise him, resisting the urge to press your forehead to his helmet as you instead run your thumb over the beskar of his cuirass. “You’d think that _you_ were the ex-royal official in this marriage.”

Din chuckles at that, shaking his head as he takes you by the hand again. “You could’ve said it much more elegantly, _ner kar’ta_ ,” he insists, letting your hands swing between the both of you in a bashful manner as his helmet watches them go.

You scoff, shaking your head as you nudge his shoulder. “Please just accept the compliment for once,” you plead, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Din sighs dramatically, still bringing you closer to his side as he nods. “Fine. Thank you, _cyar’ika_.”

You smile and nod at him, staying close as you walk out of the cantina and head to the outpost where you’ll gather the explosives and meet up with the Tuskens. You can sense the tension already as you, Din, and Cobb watch the villagers unload the explosives—something you’d be helping with if a certain little green baby wasn’t taking a power nap in the crook of your elbow. That tension only grows once the Tuskens arrive, the villagers pausing in their work to watch their single-file line of banthas walk up to the outpost. You look over at Din, seeing him look to you as well as you share a concerned glance.

The villagers and Tuskens manage to get all the explosives loaded up with only one instance of strife. Cobb had stepped in at just the right time, keeping his villager from doing anything to the Tusken who’d accidentally dropped an explosive and insisting that it was an accident. When he’d walked back over to you and Din, he’d huffed, lifting his brow with a sarcastic look on his face.

“It’s gonna be great,” Cobb had said, making you scoff and Din tilt his helmet as you looked out at the people returning to their work.

After an easy-paced journey to the krayt’s lair, everyone starts to unload, heading closer to the krayt’s lair without descending to the lower ridge. Only a single Tusken does so, approaching the mouth of the cave with caution as they kneel down and place both hands against the ground. You stay close to Din’s side—the baby remaining in the bag on your speeder so as to keep him far away from any danger—as you await the Tusken’s report. After they stand up, they turn to face your group, signing at Din from a distance.

“What he’d say?” Cobb asks, looking over at Din with curiosity.

“He says it’s sleeping,” Din answers, his visor fixed on the Tusken in the distance. You can sense the protectiveness he feels for them, making you brush your hand against his—just for him to take it completely in his own. “If we listen carefully, we can hear it breathing.”

Cobb narrows his eyes, either suspicious of what the Tusken said or trying to concentrate on hearing the krayt breathe. It’s then that the Tuskens offer him the green item of peace again—and this time, Cobb takes it. He looks at it with a sigh, raising his brow before he drinks it. You bite back a smile at the sight, finally feeling the tension around you dissipate before Din begins to give everyone their instructions.

Din and Cobb supervise, but you refuse to stand around, instead helping the villagers and Tuskens as you work to bury the explosives under the sand. As you do so, you strike up conversation with some of them, smiling as you get to know them better. Many of them are parents to the children at the school that Cobb had mentioned before, hopeful that the death of the krayt dragon will allow their children to learn better without fear over their safety. It makes you sympathize with them even more as your determination to protect them grows—easily outgrowing the dread from before that’d managed to stick with you.

As for Din, his worry only increases the more he watches you amongst the villagers and Tuskens.

He can see you familiarizing yourself with them in the way that always makes his heart swell, but at the same time, it creates a sense of dread in him. Din knows that if you get as attached to them as you did to the villagers in Sorgan, you’ll do anything to keep them safe—and as much as he admires that, it selfishly makes him afraid that you’ll put yourself in harm’s way for them. He knows he would do the same thing, but he can’t bear the thought of you doing such a thing.

“Ever the protective pair,” Cobb’s voice suddenly brings Din out of his thoughts, causing his helmet to turn to his new partner as Cobb looks almost smugly at him. Din tilts his helmet in questioning, asking for elaboration as Cobb gestures to you. “You’re watchin’ her like a hawk, and I saw her watchin’ you earlier, too.”

Din shrugs, turning back to look at you as his gloved fingers flutter nervously at his sides. “We’ve been through a lot together,” he answers, forcing himself to take a breath as he remembers your strength and lets it soothe him. “It’s inevitable.”

Cobb nods to agree, dropping it for the moment as they continue to oversee the work of the people. Din realizes that they’ve just finished, causing him to sigh as he and Cobb approach the lower ridge. He walks right up to where you are, standing amongst the villagers and Tuskens by their makeshift harpoons. You turn to face him, the expression of determination on your face worrying Din further as he realizes what’s likely going to happen.

“Are you ready, _rid’ika?_ ” Din asks, gesturing towards the upper ridge.

You grimace slightly at him, gesturing to the people around you. “I can’t just stand there and do nothing for these people, _riduur_ ,” you tell him, your eyes softening at Din as you silently plead for him to understand. “You and Cobb have much more of a role up there than I would. My place is here, fighting alongside them.”

Din sighs again and looks away from you for a moment, feeling torn between his admiration of your courage and strength and his protectiveness at the idea of you being so close to the krayt dragon. Still, he knows he won’t be able to change your mind, and he needs to trust you as much as he asks you to trust him. So, he offers a nod, taking your hands in his and holding them to his beskar-covered chest. “Please stay safe, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din begs, his modulated voice so soft it nearly doesn’t pass through his modulator. “Be wise and strong in all the ways I know you are.”

You smile in a bittersweet manner at him, bringing yourself even closer to him as you give him a nod. “I will, Din,” you say, making sure your voice is low enough for no one else to hear your utterance of his name. “Only if you do, too.”

“I’m a _Mandalorian_ , _cyare_ ,” Din jokes as lightly as he can right now, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “This is what we do best.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “You Mandalorians,” you snicker, nothing but fondness present in your voice. “Always so eager to show off.”

Din chuckles. “Only for you.” He then rests his helmet against your forehead. “ _Ni kar’tayl_ —.”

“— _gar darasuum_ ,” you finish for him, warming his heart immensely. Din knows you’re the only person who can make his native language sound so beautiful. “And I’ll tell you again when this is all over.”

Din smiles at that, regretful to pull away but knowing he can’t delay the attack any longer. Cobb’s been waiting patiently for Din to finish, and he falls in step with Din as they head back to the upper ridge. Cobb gestures to the detonator in his hand, causing Din to nod as they continue walking. Once they reach the ridge, they stand in place with weapons nearby and ready, Din’s gloved fist curling at his side as his visor instinctively lands on you.

The three Tuskens start to make their way to the mouth of the cave, preparing to awaken the krayt dragon and draw it out. Din forces himself to take a deep breath, usually not feeling so nervous to face such a creature—but knowing the stakes have risen with you being in the face of all the action. They stop once they reach the place where the first Tusken had gone before, turning to each other before they call out to the creature. There’s a moment of silence, and then the creature growls—causing the three Tuskens to start making a run for it. Din holds his breath, watching as the krayt dragon finally emerges from his cave.

It completely dwarfs all of you, digging a pit in Din’s stomach that he attempts to ignore.

Instead, he pulls out his scope as the Tuskens fire their harpoons, peering through it to get a better look. Din grimaces beneath his helmet when he realizes the krayt’s not charging ahead, but is retracting back inside. “ _Dank farrik_ , it’s going back in,” Din mutters, watching as the Tuskens try desperately to keep it in place. Some of them end up getting dragged across the sand, the dragon taking them back with itself. “It’s retreating.”

Din can hear the detonator shift around in Cobb’s hand before he speaks. “I’m going to hit it,” Cobb insists.

“No, wait,” Din demands. “We only have one shot. We’ve gotta’ get it out.”

That’s when Din notices you and the villagers starting to do your parts, some throwing rocks as others blast it with all they have. You’ve got your blaster out as you shoot at it, looking as if you’re encouraging the people around you to do the same as you keep going. Din can’t help looking nervously between you and the giant creature. It starts to get angry enough that it comes out further, even aiming to devour a few of the villagers who are forced to run back. Thankfully, you aren’t part of that group—but it’s still coming too close for comfort. Din grits his teeth, remorseful to hold off on the detonator but knowing that he has to do what’s right. “Now?” Cobb questions, still holding the detonator tight in his grasp.

“Not yet,” Din remarks, wishing he could agree as he checks through his scope again. “It’s gotta’ come out further.”

You, the villagers, and the Tuskens fight even harder, all of you blasting and shooting and throwing relentlessly as the krayt gets more and more noticeably agitated. Din can feel his heart leap in his throat as he watches you, his gaze switching between you and the krayt as it roars louder and louder. With one particular roar, it lifts the Tuskens from their places at the ropes that try to contain it. It frees itself completely from the harpoons and rises higher in the air—preparing for something Din knows isn’t good. That’s when he sees the acid in its mouth.

“No,” Din breathes, letting the scope fall to his side as he already starts to charge forward. “ _Cyar’ika_ — _!_ ”

“Whoa, Mandalorian, it’s all right!” Cobb exclaims, turning to set both his hands against Din’s cuirass and keep him from advancing any further. “She’ll be fine!”

Din’s still watching the dragon, though, seeing it spew its acid towards the people—and getting a few of them. He’s nearly sick at the sight of you running so quickly away from it, even if you still make it out.

“I need your eyes!” Cobb insists, gesturing to the scope in Din’s gloved fist. “I know you’re worried for her, but if we don’t hit it at the right time, _everyone_ down there will die!”

Din nods, taking a deep breath in an attempt to regain his composure as he lifts the scope back up to his visor. He sees the krayt finally approaching the place where the explosives are buried. “Almost, almost…” Din pauses, watching as the krayt finally lands on top of the spot, “ _now!_ ”

Cobb hits the detonator, causing dust to fly and a strong wind to blow as the explosives go off. The people on the lower ridge either fall to the ground or turn away, and Din notes that you in particular shield a few villagers behind you as the dust blows. Din hears the ground rumble as the krayt disappears from sight.

But never from mind.

You, the villagers, and the Tuskens look around, trying to find out if the plan worked. Din grimaces underneath the helmet. This silence is much more unwelcome than he’d expected—mostly because there’s no carcass underneath the dust.

“I don’t think it’s dead,” Cobb suddenly mutters to Din, seemingly mirroring his exact thoughts as he stares doubtfully at the settling dust.

“Me either,” Din agrees, forcing himself to take a deep breath as he continues surveying the area. Everyone keeps looking around with him—but Din notices that you, in particular, look right up to where he is on the ridge.

That’s when Din hears the roaring from above, followed by a cracking of rocks as he looks to see the krayt appearing from a nearby ridge. His fists tighten at his sides and he has to resist the urge to run to you again when the krayt spews more of its acid, targeting a group of people much too close to you for comfort and completely disintegrating them in front of your very eyes. Cobb stirs beside Din before he speaks. “It’s pickin’ us off like womp rats,” he insists gruffly, turning to head back towards his speeder. “Let’s get after it!”

Din takes one last look at you and the krayt, leaping into action himself shortly after as he hurries to the speeder and grabs his pulse rifle. The baby coos at him before he goes, earning a quick brush of his ear from Din before he joins Cobb at his side. He activates his jetpack and gets up into the air first, seeing Cobb flying alongside him soon enough as they approach the krayt.

Din flies onto the side of the ridge, soon landing in a ready position as Cobb does the same. He aims the rifle and fires a few charges near its eye, huffing when the krayt barely seems to notice.

“This ain’t doin’ a thing!” Cobb rants, looking over at Din through his helmet in a concerned manner.

Din grimaces. “Just keep shooting!” he instructs, offering a nod of reassurance as he turns back to the krayt.

Sure enough, they soon catch the krayt’s attention, causing it to head towards them as they fly away just in time. Din leads the way back down to the surface, landing on the lower ridge as he quickly recovers his step and aims back up at the krayt. Cobb does the same.

But the krayt’s nowhere to be seen.

Din can feel your worried gaze on him but he’s too focused to look away now, his gloved fingers flexing over the trigger as he waits for the krayt to make its appearance.

When it returns, it’s from behind them, causing both Din and Cobb to turn around and watch where the krayt moves towards them—a few villagers and Tuskens trapped in between.

“There he is,” Din mutters, gripping his pulse rifle with both his hands as he helplessly watches the krayt go for some of the villagers and Tuskens, thankfully nowhere near you. He’s desperate for a plan—and it comes to him when he hears its worried whines from behind him. Din turns to see one of the banthas close by, explosives still trapped to its sides as it anticipates the nearby danger.

He knows what he has to do—and he knows you’re going to hate it.

“I’ve got an idea,” Din informs Cobb, shifting on his feet as he looks up at the krayt. “Get its attention.”

Immediately, Cobb leans forward, activating his missile and letting it launch. It soars and lands on the side of the krayt’s head, causing it to roar before it turns to them with evident distress. Cobb moves around anxiously. “I got its attention!” he remarks, slight panic evident in his tone. “Now what?”

Mentally, Din apologizes to Cobb first, knowing what he’ll have to face in the aftermath of this plan—especially if it goes wrong. He looks at Cobb, his fingers drumming against his rifle. “You still have that detonator?”

Cobb nods, grabbing it off his belt and handing it to Din. “Take it!” he assures him. Din mentally apologizes to his son next. “What’s the plan?”

Finally, Din apologizes to you. “You’re gonna take care of my family,” Din informs him, securing the detonator on his belt as he looks to Cobb.

Cobb looks up at the krayt, though Din can sense the worry he has at Din’s words. “What are you gonna do?” he questions.

Din doesn’t have time—he never has enough _time_ —as he instead has to speak and act fast. “I don’t know, but wish me luck!” he exclaims, jutting the end of his rifle into Cobb’s jetpack to send him flying uncontrollably through the air.

That’s when Din activates the detonator, preparing the explosives as he waits with the bantha. In its desperation to flee the oncoming dragon, the bantha thrashes its head around and lows, breaking free from the anchor that’s tying it down.

Din turns around, his eyes widening behind his helmet as he rushes towards it. “No!—No, no, no!” he exclaims worriedly, grabbing the rope and securing it in his fist. “Hold on— _whoa_ , whoa whoa.” He now has to keep the bantha in place, turning around to face the oncoming dragon.

Din knows what this means. He has to revert to Plan B. And that means the suffering in the aftermath of his plan is going to be even worse than he anticipated.

He tries to get a quick glance at you before it happens, thankfully finding you right away as he sees you many yards away watching him with an unreadable expression. Din knows that you’re expecting him to quickly fly away at the last minute. He’d been expecting to do that, too, but the bantha has to remain in place somehow.

 _Trust me, cyar’ika_ , Din tries to say with his gaze, basking in the sweet sight of you before he looks back up to the approaching krayt.

It opens its jaws wide as it hovers over him, yet Din doesn’t flinch for a moment. He can’t. Like he’d told you before, he’s a Mandalorian after all—and if he’s anything like the ones he’s been told about, he should make it out of this just fine.

But you and the child are the only things on his mind and heart when he’s covered by the same acid that he tried to keep away from you.

Meanwhile, your heart has absolutely leapt into your throat as you wait for Din to take off and leave the bantha alone with the dragon. But he doesn’t. Instead, the creature comes down on him with full-force, causing sand to fly in every direction as you’re forced to look away for a few moments. You expect to find Din somehow standing there after some crafty move when you look back, doing what he does best: making you worry for no reason.

Yet, when the dust clears, there’s nothing there—not even a single remnant of your husband.

He’s been devoured whole by the krayt dragon.

“Din,” you gasp under your breath, barely able to recognize your own voice as the realization fully dawns upon you. “ _Riduur!_ ” Your voice is a strangled cry as you start to charge forward, aiming for the place where the dragon took Din under.

You can see Cobb standing up quickly from where he’s landed in your peripherals, immediately running over to take a hold of your upper arms and stop your advance. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay!” he tries to reassure you, his grip strong but still not enough to hold you back as you try to push past him.

“It’s _not!_ ” you nearly yell, forcing yourself close to where Din just was. “My husband is—the dragon took—!”

You’re cut off by your own yelp of surprise when Cobb wraps his arms under your shoulders, dragging you back with all his might as you thrash around to escape his hold. Tears of frustration and grief start to cloud your eyes as the image of Din being swallowed whole haunts your mind.

“Let me go!” you plead, not caring about the attention you’re drawing in the tense silence that surrounds you. “Let me _go!_ ”

“I’m sorry, partner,” Cobb apologizes sincerely, still having to drag you further back. “I can’t do that. I promised him I’d take care of ya’.”

“Let me go,” you beg again, the volume of your voice lowering now in your desperation—especially at the mention of Din’s last wish for Cobb to take care of you. “ _Please_ —just let me… let me…” you pause, wincing as you swallow back a cry, “I just have to _try_.”

“I know,” Cobb remarks sadly, finally setting you in place when you stop fighting him. “I understand, but—.”

Cobb’s cut off by the sudden shaking of the ground around you, clueing you in to the fact that the krayt could be returning. You nearly gasp when it leaps out of the sand just in front of you—with the light of a blue electric shock flying from its mouth, along with a familiar figure.

Din _kriffing_ Djarin.

He flies further away and clicks the detonator, causing the bantha within the krayt that Din had trapped there to explode. As the krayt falls to the ground in defeat, Din lands just in front of it, turning to watch just as the dust starts to settle. Everyone around you watches as he catches his breath for a moment, still in disbelief as the krayt lays still in death.

Then, the cheers arise—but all you can focus on is getting one foot in the front of the other as fast as possible.

You don’t care how gross Din is from the krayt when your body collides into his own, your arms wrapping around him so tightly that you’re afraid you may be making it harder for him to breathe. He gladly accepts you in his embrace, keeping his rifle tight in one hand as the other presses against the back of your head.

“You—You metal bastard,” you chastise him, not lifting your face from its place against his cuirass as you hold him even closer. “I… I thought you were—I thought— _damn_ you, Djarin.”

“ _Ni ceta, rid’ika_ ,” Din remarks, his modulated tone honest as he presses his helmet to your head. _I’m sorry_. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have time to explain.”

“You stupid, reckless, brave, and absolutely _incredible_ tin can,” you keep ranting, trying to grip onto him even more firmly as Din attempts to calm you with sweet nothings. “How _dare_ you be so selfless.”

“How dare you marry a Mandalorian,” Din retorts, evidently trying to keep things light-hearted as he pulls his head away just to rest it back against your forehead. You hold his helmet between your hands as you manage to get out a chuckle, shaking your head against his.

“Still one of the best decisions I ever made,” you assure him, keeping your voice low as you smile at him. “Probably right up there with my decision not to divorce you after what the hell you just put me through.”

Din nearly belly laughs at that, pulling you back against him as he secures you in his embrace again—the both of you still needing as much of each other as you can get right now.

After a few more long moments of just standing there, you finally manage to get back into action, staying close by Din’s side—and taking his hand whenever you can get away with it—as you begin to pack up after the fight. The Tuskens have already started to pick at the carcass of the dragon, offering your family a large portion of the meat that you secure to the back part of the bike. The baby seems the most eager about that, admiring the raw meat with large eyes as Din throws a cloth borrowed from the Tuskens over it.

That’s when Cobb walks over with his armor in hand, lifting his brow at Din as your Mandalorian starts to act almost shy during their first exchange since he’d been swallowed. “Sorry,” Din apologizes sincerely, “I didn’t have time to explain.”

“No need,” Cobb assures him, his gaze flickering over to where you’re still close by Din’s side. “I don’t think _I’m_ the one who needs the apology.”

You and Din both chuckle at that, your eyes widening as you look at Cobb with an eyebrow raised. “Oh, trust me, I’ve already demanded mine,” you inform him, causing him to chuckle as well as he starts to hand the armor over to Din.

“This was well-earned,” Cobb remarks, looking at Din with a glint of friendly admiration in his gaze.

“It was my pleasure,” Din insists, shaking Cobb’s hand.

“I hope our paths cross again,” Cobb says, nodding with a small smile as he turns to shake your hand as well. Instead, you offer it to his lips, allowing him to finally get that chaste kiss in on your knuckles as his smile widens.

Din doesn’t say anything about it this time, instead just responding to Cobb’s previous words. “As do I,” he remarks, fondness evident in his voice as Cobb starts to walk away.

But then, he stops, gesturing to the armor now strapped to Din’s speeder as he furrows his brow. “Oh,” Cobb starts to add, “and you tell your people I wasn’t the one that broke that.”

Din scoffs playfully at that, watching as he walks away in silence. He then turns to look at you, not shy about resting his helmet against your forehead before he speaks. “You ready to head back, _rid’ika?_ ”

You nod, tempted to kiss his helmet but hesitating as the green acid of the krayt still lingers on it. “I’m ready to get you cleaned up,” you confess, making Din laugh as he helps you on the bike. “It’s cruel being unable to kiss you as I’d like, _riduur_.”

“That makes two of us,” Din agrees, giving your hands a squeeze when you wrap them around his middle. Then, he takes off, bringing you both back towards your temporary home.

Though, as you fail to realize, this isn’t anywhere near the end of your adventures—especially here on Tatooine.


	28. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After facing many obstacles, Clan Djarin heads back to the Crest with new information, while Din and the princess try to cope with their fears of losing each other.

Din knows the Dune Sea usually isn’t this peaceful—but he just assumes that he’s having a stroke of good luck after what you’ve just gone through.

You’re rather quiet on the back of the speeder and Din accredits it to your exhaustion from the events of earlier. You’ve been traveling for almost the entire day after spending a brief time at a Tusken camp, though Din knows you barely got any sleep there. The baby had been particularly fussy, and you’d insisted upon Din resting while you stayed up with him. He didn’t sleep very well himself knowing that you weren’t getting the rest you needed.

Now, he’s glad to see that you’re getting some kind of sleep on the speeder, your arms still wrapped tightly around him as he drives on. As long as he stays alert enough to push forward for a little bit longer, you’ll be back to the  _ Crest  _ soon enough for all of you to get the sleep you need.

But he should’ve been more alert.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a trip wire appears right in front of the speeder, instantly launching all three of you off the bike. Din hears the baby squeal with surprise as you can barely get a gasp out before he hears you two tumbling in the dust, making him panic even more as he tries to land on his feet with his jetpack. When he manages to get onto his own two feet and narrowly misses getting hit with the speeder, he observes you two in the sand—your form unmoving as the baby lifts his head in unpleasant surprise.

“ _ Cyar—! _ ” Din tries to call for you, getting cut off by his own grunt of surprise when a blaster bolt hits his shoulder. He falls back a few steps, gasping when one hits him square in the helmet. Din can barely see the group that advances on him, but he makes out three people.

“Get the child!” one of them orders a smaller one, but Din won’t stand for it. As soon as he gathers his bearings for even just a moment, he pulls his blaster, shooting at the one advancing on the child.

He’s cut off mid-shot, causing his blaster bolt to only hit their leg as they fall to the ground. His blaster’s ripped from his hand as one of his attackers swings at him with a short fighting stick. Din now turns his focus to this man, dodging his blows and throwing punches whenever he gets the chance to. They go back-and-forth until Din manages to rip the stick from his opponent’s hands, hitting him on the back of the head with it.

Another attacker advances on him, pinning him up against a rock as Din lands a punch in his stomach to make him back off. In the split-second of time he has to think, Din can see you still laying on the ground, struggling to get up and help. The crash had affected you even more than he’d anticipated.

“ _ Riduur! _ ” Din tries once again to get your attention, but he’s immediately advanced on by a Nikto attacker, having to wrestle him away just as the other attacker comes back with his fighting stick in hand. He’s got two on him with no easy end in sight.

That is, until the smaller one tries to aim a longer blaster at him.

Din immediately frees his right arm to release his grappling hook, wrapping it around the weapon and giving it a hard tug to send it flying towards him. He ducks down just in time, letting the weapon hit both the heads of his attackers as he prepares to launch into action against the third.

Instead, he’s met with the horrifying sight of the attacker with his arm around your neck, his other hand pressing a knife to the place just below your chin. Your eyelids are hooded as you look at Din, your goggles having been knocked off during the crash as a trail of blood flows out of both your nostrils. Din winces to himself underneath the helmet, lifting his hands in surrender as he realizes you’re not only too out of it to retaliate but you also lost all your weapons in the crash.

“Wait!” Din exclaims, keeping his hands out as he tries his best to keep his cool. “Don’t hurt her.”

The attacker presses the knife against your skin, causing you to grimace as your eyes widen just a bit more. Your gaze meets Din’s visor with concealed desperation, your expression almost apologetic, as if this is somehow your fault. Din gets hit with two urges: one to console and one to kill.

“If you put  _ one  _ mark on her,” Din begins to warn the attacker, his voice low and heavy with meaning, “there’s no place you will be able to hide from me.”

Din only looks away for a quick moment when he hears a fearful coo by his feet. He observes the baby hanging on to his boot as he peers around it, his ears lowered in a frightened manner as he observes you being held at knifepoint. That only fuels the fire within Din more, making the gears turn more quickly in his mind as he goes on.

“We can strike a bargain,” Din insists with a slow nod. “There’s a lot of value in this wreckage.” He gestures with a hand to the aftermath of the crash. “Take your pick.”

Din can tell you want to speak, most likely to ask him what the hell he’s doing—knowing very well this attacker could choose Din’s armor, or even his helmet—but you both remain silent, watching the attacker survey his options.

“But  _ leave  _ her.” Din makes his final demand with no room for argument.

The attacker keeps their gaze on Din, soon gesturing with the blade towards him. They speak in their alien language, and Din looks around until he realizes what they’re talking about: they want his jetpack. When Din starts to sigh, the attacker gestures to the ground, and Din knows what he has to do.

“Okay,” Din agrees, instantly starting to take the jetpack off.

“ _ Riduur _ ,” Din hears you speak for the first time since the crash, your voice almost a warning as you start to shake your head at him. Din tilts his helmet slightly at you, trying to assure you that it’s all right and he has a plan. He almost always does.

“Here,” Din tells the attacker as he steps forward, placing the jetpack in the space between them. “It’s yours.” He lets it stand on its own, still keeping his hands up in surrender as he starts to back away from it. “Take it.”

The attacker keeps the blade against your neck, dragging you ahead with him through the sand as he walks towards the jetpack. Din grimaces at the sight, his hands clenching into fists for a quick moment as he resists the urge to kill the attacker on the spot for treating you like that.

“It’s okay,” Din manages to get out through gritted teeth, watching as the attacker starts to set you down beside the jetpack. Din nods at you, earning a small nod in return as the attacker takes the jetpack. Din lets his hands fall to his sides when the attacker starts to run away with it.

Immediately, it’s the baby who runs to you first, cooing in distress as he makes it into your arms. You take him there with a few kisses pressed to his head, something Din absorbs with bittersweet warmth as he jogs over to kneel at your side. Din runs his gloved hand over your head, brushing some of the wisps of hair out of your face as he tilts his helmet down at you.

“You okay,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din asks softly, meeting your gaze with his own behind the visor. You nod at him, pulling the baby even closer to you as Din props you up in his lap.

“Din, you shouldn’t have done that,” you chastise him softly, despite the fact you’re starting to rest your head more upon his shoulder. “I could’ve handled a scratch or two.”

“I said not  _ one  _ mark,” Din reminds you, turning his attention back to the attacker. With a few taps on his vambrace, the attacker and his jetpack are in the air, causing the baby to coo with interest as you lightly gasp. Din plays with controls on his vambrace for a few moments, waiting until the attacker lets go of the jetpack—and plummets right from the sky to the ground, remaining unmoving.

The baby himself snorts at Din’s actions, and you mirror the same expression up at Din as you snicker. “That was dramatic,” you joke.

Din just shrugs, getting the jetpack to come back to him before he lets that fall against the ground, too. “He shouldn’t have done that to you,” Din insists, forgetting about the jetpack for now as he looks out at the wreckage. With a deep breath, he cares for you first, placing a gloved hand on your cheek as he runs his thumb over the place beneath your eye. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You nod almost wearily, giving Din a small smile for further reassurance. Din grimaces to himself, using his free hand to grab a part of his cape and bring it to your face. “Your nose is bleeding,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

“It’s from the landing,” you inform Din, causing him to bite back a whimper as he starts to wipe away the blood as gingerly as possible. He then keeps that corner of his cape over your nose, helping you to lean forward until you’re openly bleeding the rest out into the torn fabric. “I got a nice face full of dirt.”

Din sighs, his guilt weighing even more heavily on his shoulders now as he runs a gloved hand over your back. “I’m sorry,  _ riduur _ ,” he apologizes sincerely. “I should’ve been more careful.”

“There’s no possible way you could’ve seen that coming, Din,” you remind him, your voice nasally thanks to the way your nostrils are being slightly pinched by his cape right now.

Din bites back a response about how it  _ is  _ his fault, that he could always be paying more attention, but he knows you won’t receive it well—and he’s too focused on helping you. After a few more moments, he takes his cape off your nose, checking to see if you’ve drained all the blood from it. Thankfully, you mustn’t have hit your face very hard against the ground, since your nosebleed’s already stopped. “There you go,” Din murmurs, smiling slightly to himself beneath the helmet as he helps you to sit back up.

“Thank you,  _ riduur _ ,” you say, smiling up at him as you reach for his helmet and bring it to your forehead. Din can feel his chest warm immensely at the action, an ache digging so deeply inside of him that it nearly knocks the air from his lungs.

He’s come too close to losing you recently—either from his own rash actions or from the actions of others. Din  _ needs  _ to ground himself to you again.

But for now, he needs to get you home safely. Din looks out at the wreckage and releases a sigh, sensing your gaze following his. “We’re gonna have to walk, aren’t we?” you ask, causing Din to huff as he nods once.

“Is that—will you be okay?” Din’s instantly concerned again as he looks back down at you.

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at Din as you start to stand up. “It seems you’ve forgotten who your  _ riduur _ is, Din,” you insist, nearly jumping up from the ground as you hold the baby in the crook of your elbow. “I’ll be  _ fine _ .”

Din’s always admired your strength. His chest aches again as he nods at you, also standing up before he starts to collect the parts of the wreckage he needs. He manages to put as much of it together as he can, eventually strapping it to the handlebars of the speeder as he slings the contraption over his shoulders. When he turns to look at you, he can see the slight horror on your face.

“You plan on carrying all that by yourself back to Mos Eisley?” you question, stepping forward with the baby still in your arms. Even he seems to be in disbelief, releasing a loud coo of slight protest as his ears fall to his sides.

Din shrugs, the meat, armor, and other cargo jostling around slightly at the movement. “It’s not that heavy.”

You scoff, giving your head a shake. “Always showing off,” you joke, nudging him with your free elbow as you come alongside him. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“Just keep carrying the baby,” Din informs you, smiling to himself underneath the helmet at your persistence.

You nod at that, finally remaining silent as you both start your venture through the rest of the Dune Sea. Whenever the sand starts to gust, Din looks over at you nervously, relieved to see that you’ve got your goggles back on and you’re seemingly unaffected by it all. You’re successfully hiding the baby whenever the sand blows, further relieving Din as the three of you push through towards Mos Eisley.

The suns are setting by the time you see the city, and Din sighs in relief—not for himself, but for you two. Din can tell that even if you won’t admit it, you’re weary, and he hates the fact that part of it is his fault. He leads the way into town quickly, wanting to get you both settled on the  _ Crest _ . Din hasn’t even thought about the fact that all his leads for finding other Mandalorians are gone, yet, but once he gets closer to the cantina where he knows he’ll find Peli, it comes to mind.

He heaves another sigh.  _ Great _ .

Inside the cantina, Din actually does find Peli—and after losing five-hundred credits and suffering through at least two “tin can” jokes, he finally has another potential lead. Din knows the toll of the last few days is finally catching up to him, especially when he found that he was actually getting slightly upset with the way you’d laughed at Peli’s antics. They were funny and he knows it, but he needs a moment to clear his mind, and then he knows that once he’s composed himself, he’ll need you, too.

You seem to have already come to the same conclusion yourself. It doesn’t surprise Din when you join him in the hull of the  _ Crest  _ and urge him to set down the load he’s been carrying on his shoulders, holding his grimey helmet between your hands as you lift an eyebrow at him.

“You need to wash up,” you inform him, your voice soft yet stern as you give the command. “I’ll watch the baby and find a way to get this meat cooking.”

Din releases a breath, any of his irrational frustration towards you dissipating the moment your hands met his beskar. “Are you sure?” he asks, hoping his mental exhaustion isn’t evident in his modulated rasp. He’s already instinctively setting his gloved hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your gaze softens at him. “Absolutely, Din. You need some time to yourself.”

Din pouts underneath the helmet, now hating the way he even had the same thought earlier. “And you’re sure you don’t want to join me?”

You laugh at that, pressing your forehead to his helmet. “Someone’s got to watch our son.”

Din gives your waist a gentle squeeze. “Didn’t Peli gladly offer to watch him when we first got here?”

You shake your head with a mischievous sparkle in your eye. “Din… may I remind you that we’re waiting on information for your  _ quest _ .”

“ _ Our  _ quest,” Din corrects you. “The Armorer told me I wouldn’t be alone.”

You smile at that. “You’re right, you’re right. She  _ did _ say that. So, it’s all the more important that one of us waits for the information while you wash up.”

Din huffs upon finally being defeated. “Fine.” He then leans even closer to you, letting you get a better grip on the sides of his helmet. “But at least give me one kiss before you leave?  _ Please? _ ”

You giggle, playfully rolling your eyes before you lift the helmet just enough to reveal his mouth. You press your lips to his in a short yet sweet kiss, enough to make Din’s stomach flutter in the way you somehow always do before you pull away. “No more procrastinating, Din. You’ve got to get cleaned up.”

Din nods at that, letting you go as he watches you start to tend to the cargo he’d deposited. He turns in the direction of the ‘fresher, stepping inside and locking his thoughts inside with himself.

As Din starts to first wash the grime, grit, and sand of the past few days off himself, he constantly catches sight of the scars he bears—the ones you’ve lavished with many kisses and whispered even more words of affection and admiration over. The thought alone always makes Din’s heart somersault in his chest. For some reason, now more than ever, he’s wishing you can do that again. When he allows himself the luxury of digging deeper within to find out why, he realizes it’s for the same reason he’d thought of earlier after the bike crash. He’s almost lost you too many times in the past few days, at the very beginning of your quest. Din needs a reminder that you’re still here with him—and that he doesn’t need to suffer through these life-threatening events alone anymore.

Din hisses when the soap meets a particular angry red mark on his left arm. He’s surprised he’s been able to hide it from you ever since the krayt dragon fight. He thought he’d made it unscathed from within the dragon, but the adrenaline must’ve dulled the pain of the deep scratch the krayt’s teeth left on his arm when he’d been holding the bantha in place. There’s no doubt you’ll see it tonight whenever he gets the chance to rest with you.

Though, even as mentally exhausted as he feels right now, rest isn’t the first thing on his mind.

As Din puts on the spare clothes he wears underneath his armor—ones that don’t reek of a certain dragon’s acid—and starts to clean his beskar, he’s haunted by the idea of your beauty, your breathless passion, and most of all your  _ heart _ . Din never thought he’d earn such a partner in life, and now that he knows and loves you, he can’t imagine going back to the kind of life he’d had before. He needs to remind himself of what he has, of  _ who  _ he has. Life on the run doesn’t allow the kind of time for such a thing, but Din’s going to make time.

Before he knows it, the armor’s been cleaned, allowing him to put it back on and join you outside the  _ Crest _ . He descends from the hatch just as Peli walks inside the hangar from the opposite direction, coming to meet you in the middle where you watch the baby practically drooling over the krayt dragon meat that a droid’s roasting with a spare engine.

“Hey, don’t overcook it, Treadwell!” Peli exclaims to the droid. “I like it medium rare! I’m not some Rodian, for crying out loud.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you look to where Din’s come alongside you. Din feels his chest warm even more at the way you smile at him, slightly nudging his shoulder with yours. “Feeling better,  _ riduur? _ ”

Din smiles at you underneath the helmet. “Much better,” he assures you softly. “Thank you,  _ rid’ika _ . You… always make me feel better.”

Your eyes sparkle in a new way at Din upon hearing his words—a light that Din knows all too well. It’s a light he knows he carried, and still carries, in his own eyes upon thinking of you before. You’re yearning for the same kind of reassurance he is.

And Maker help him if you both can’t get it.

“All right, you two, here’s the deal,” Peli pulls you out of your shared trance, earning both Din’s attention and yours. “A Mandalorian covert is close.” You look at Din excitedly upon hearing that, causing his heart to burst even more at your shared enthusiasm. “It’s in this sector, one system trailing.”

“That’s great!” you respond.

“Are they the ones that left Nevarro?” Din questions, his curiosity piquing. He knows Peli probably won’t know any more than he does—but he’s eager to see if any of his people are left standing, or if he really is responsible for  _ all  _ their deaths.

“Don’t know,” Peli confesses, just as Din had predicted. “All I know is that the contact will lead you to them.”

Din holds in a breath, sharing a glance with you before he speaks. “How much will it cost me?”

“Well, that’s the great news,” Peli insists. “It’s free—aside from a finder’s free, of course.”

“Great news?” you echo with a raised brow. “Is there bad news?”

“And what is it?” Din finishes for you.

“Nothing,” Peli assures you with a nod of her head. “It’s all great.”

“Okay,” Din remarks, starting to turn back towards the  _ Crest  _ and prepare for the contact.

“However,” Peli continues, causing Din to instantly turn back and face her. He can see you grow just as rigid at his side. “There  _ is  _ one small skank in the scud pie.”

“Peli…” you trail off with a shake to your head.

“Which is?” Din urges.

“The contact wants passage to the system,” Peli explains.

Din pauses, sharing another glance with you. You’re both slightly concerned, but you know what you have to do in order to follow this lead. You’ve gone through worse—and at least you’ll all be together. “Do you vouch for them?” Din finally asks Peli.

“On my life,” she answers with certainty.

Din takes a deep breath, only waiting until he gets a nod from you to offer one of his own. “Fine,” he agrees, yet again turning towards the  _ Crest _ .

“ _ And _ …” Peli starts, causing Din to look back at her in a quick and slightly agitated manner. Din doesn’t miss your look of warning. “No hyperdrive.”

Din instantly leans towards her in disbelief. “You want us to travel  _ sublight? _ ” Din scoffs, furrowing his brow beneath his helmet. “Deal’s  _ off _ .”

“Now,  _ riduur _ —,” you try to reason, placing your hands on his arm.

“It’s one sector over,” Peli reminds Din.

“Moving fast is the only thing keeping us safe,” Din asserts, looking between both you and Peli as he speaks. 

“These are  _ mitigating  _ circumstances,” Peli states firmly.

“What? Do you mean?  _ Mitigating? _ ” Din nearly seethes, causing you to tighten your grasp on his arm.

“Listen,  _ riduur _ , I’m sure it’ll be…” you trail off when another person walks into the hangar, catching your group’s attention as you observe them.

It’s a woman of the Frog species, carrying some sort of cargo on her back as she tilts her head at the three of you curiously. Din can already feel the series of sighs welling up in his chest at the sight. He’s unsure of how someone like that would know about Mandalorians—and he’s doubtful he’ll get the information he needs.

You, on the other hand, have already started to take a liking to your passenger. “ _ Oh _ , she’s precious,” you nearly gasp, your hands leaving Din’s arm to instead lay over your heart as you look between the Frog Lady and Din.

He, sadly, can’t agree with you on the matter. Din sets his hands on his hips as he bends down closer to Peli’s level, attempting to keep his words quiet. “We’re not a taxi service,” his modulated voice mutters.

You turn quickly to look at him, furrowing your brow at him. “ _ Riduur _ ,” you snap. “Mind your manners.”

“I hear you, Mandalorian,” Peli insists, drawing his attention again. The Frog Lady’s now come alongside Peli, and Din watches as you look at her with a kind smile. You never fail to amaze him in that way. “But I can vouch for her.”

The Frog Lady begins to speak in a language Din can’t understand. He sees your gaze flash with confusion as well, and when you look to him, he shrugs to confirm that he’s in the same boat as you.

“What’s the cargo?” Din questions, still keeping his hands on his hips as Peli turns to the Frog Lady.

She speaks in her language, taking Din by surprise as they share a quick exchange. Peli then turns back to Din. “It’s her spawn,” Peli explains. “She needs her eggs fertilized by the equinox or her line will end.” Din looks to see your gaze softening already at that. “If you jump into hyperspace, they’ll die. She said her husband has settled on the estuary moon of Trask in the system of the gas giant Kol Iben.”

Din simply stares at her for a moment before he responds. “She said all that?” His words earn a hard elbow in his side from you, causing Din to rub over the clothed place in slight shame.

“I paraphrased,” Peli answers, seemingly unbothered by Din’s snarkiness.

Din sighs, looking around thoughtfully. “Is she  _ sure  _ there are Mandalorians there?” he nearly sighs.

Peli shares an exchange with the Frog Lady yet again. “She said her husband has seen them,” she replies.

Din sighs lightly, watching as the Frog Lady starts to walk around Peli and head towards the  _ Crest _ . You step out with her, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder as you smile. “I’ll get you comfortable,” you assure her, earning what sounds like a warm sound in the Frog Lady’s language as the two of you walk off together.

Once you’re both out of earshot, Din leans close to Peli. “Do you know the husband?” he questions.

“No,” Peli scoffs. “I met her ten minutes before you walked in.”

Din feels slight horror fill him as he furrows his brow more harshly beneath his helmet. “I thought you said you vouched for her on your life,” he reminds her bitterly.

Peli reaches for a piece of the dragon meat that the droid’s offered her before she answers. “What can I say, I’m an excellent judge of character.” She then rips off a piece of the meat, leaving Din to sigh as he starts to turn towards where the child was before.

“All right,  _ ad’ika _ , let’s…” Din trails off when the child’s nowhere to be seen, turning around frantically to see him waddling just out of eyeshot inside the hull. “Oh.” He nods at Peli in farewell, thanking her despite the hiccups she’s brought along with his source of information. Din doesn’t waste any time ascending his way to the cockpit once he’s secured the hatch closed, seeing you and the Frog Lady already sitting in the co-pilot seats as you converse.

“... for a while, now,” you’re saying to her, smiling a bit wider when you notice Din. He can’t help biting back a smile beneath the helmet, simply continuing straight ahead as he prepares to get the  _ Crest  _ in the air again. “How long have you two been together?” The Frog Lady answers in her language, and Din can hear you hum as if you understand. His brow knits together as he navigates the  _ Crest  _ out of the atmosphere. “Oh, wow. I’m sure you must miss him dearly, then.”

Once he’s got the  _ Crest  _ on a straight enough path, Din swivels slightly in his chair to face you. “You understand her?” he asks, tilting his helmet in confusion.

You shake your head. “No,” you inform him. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t converse.”

“Well, actually—,” Din tries to argue.

“No, no, enough of your  _ logic _ , Mandalorian,” you tease him, raising a stern eyebrow. “I’m going to make  _ our  _ passenger feel welcome no matter how grumpy you are about it. Understood?”

Din scoffs playfully, shaking his head before he utters a few words about you affectionately. “ _ Ner mir’sheb’ika _ .”  _ My little smartass. _

“Mind repeating that a little louder,  _ riduur? _ ” you remark, causing Din to chuckle slightly to himself. He can tell you’ve turned back to the Frog Lady as you go on. “I’m sorry about him, he just gets… well, you know how the husbands can be.”

The Frog Lady releases a sound that must be a laugh, causing Din’s neck and face to grow warm underneath his helmet as you both laugh at him quite literally behind his back. He clears his throat before he prepares to speak again. “All I’m gonna ask is that you stay strapped in,” Din instructs, tilting his helmet slightly in the Frog Lady’s direction. “Traveling sublight is a bit…  _ dicey  _ these days.”

The Frog Lady seems to nod in acknowledgement as you stand up, grabbing Din’s attention as you press your hands upon the back of his chair. “I’m gonna go put the baby to sleep,” you inform him softly, all the teasing now out of your tone as you press a soft kiss to the top of his beskar helmet. “Should I meet you in bed?”

“Yeah,” Din agrees, looking up at you with a warm tilt to his helmet. “We’ll need all the…” he hesitates, not wanting to dismiss the option of doing what he knows he must—you  _ both  _ must—to satisfy the tightened knots in both your stomachs, “downtime we can get on this trip.”

You nod, smiling at him before you leave the cockpit. Din sighs lightly when he turns back to the face the dashboard, only frowning when he hears the Frog Lady try to say something to him in her language.

“I don’t speak whatever language that is,” Din sighs with slight frustration. “You speak… Huttese?” Din pauses, waiting for some kind of response. Instead, he offers his own in Huttese. When he’s met with more silence and a confused tilt of her head, Din turns back to the dashboard and flicks off a control, heaving a large sigh as he finishes setting the coordinates. He then dares to speak to her again. “So, we’re gonna hit the rack,” he informs her. “I’ve set the nav for our course.” He spins in his chair and rises from it. “It’s gonna take a while. I recommend you get some rest.”

The Frog Lady nods, giving Din some sense of peace as he closes the cockpit door behind him. Immediately after, he walks into your shared compartment just across the way, seeing you already settled on top of the bed in the shirt of his you’ve stolen for the night. Din raises an eyebrow, relieved when he secures the compartment door behind him and lifts his helmet from his head.

“You already got the baby to sleep?” Din questions, his rasp gentle as he starts to take off his armor piece-by-piece. He knows it’s dangerous to do so with a stranger aboard, but Din can’t help himself. He needs to be right up against your warmth tonight.

“Oh yeah, it wasn’t hard,” you scoff, “because the little menace has a nice meal in his belly.”

Din grimaces, looking at you as he continues with his armor. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I found our son  _ eating her eggs _ ,” you whisper the last three words, causing Din to nearly choke as he pauses his movements to cover his mouth with his fist.

“You mean… he—?” Din shakes his head, embarrassment already flooding over him as he takes off his last piece of armor. “Well, I really hope she can’t count.”

“Or that he throws them back up,” you mumble.

“ _ No _ ,” Din asserts quickly. “Throwing up isn’t pleasant. I don’t want our son to experience that.”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to hide your smile from Din as he discards his shirt and prepares to finally join you in bed. “So protective,” you tease, your gaze never leaving him as he lays beside you.

“And for good reason,” Din defends himself, wrapping one arm around you and setting the other on your waist as he pulls you against him. He presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes at the feeling. “I’ve already almost lost you too many times on this quest of ours.” Your hand presses against his chest before it runs along his skin, nearly making him hum as you find your way over his shoulder and down his arm.

Right on top of the mark he’d  _ forgotten _ to tell you about.

Din bites back a growl that you don’t miss, making you sit up as you grab his arm more firmly to get a better look. He can see your face morph into slight mortification as you look between the healing wound and his gaze.

“Din,” you chastise him, your brow furrowed in a way that makes Din wish he could flatten it out with a series of kisses to your forehead. “What is this?”

“It’s… uh, it’s from the dragon,” Din confesses, his gaze falling to the space between you in guilt. “I think one of its teeth got me.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Your voice is solely strained with worry as you heave a sigh, starting to get up. “We have to treat it properly.”

“ _ No _ .” Din’s voice is firm, yet even he doesn’t miss the way it also wavers as he grabs your arm quickly to stop you. Instantly, you turn back around to face him, and Din can feel the desperation in his very eyes as he searches your concerned gaze. “We can take care of it later, I just… you can’t—don’t leave me. Please.”

You instantly frown at him, reaching for the sides of his face to bring his forehead back to yours. Din nearly sighs with relief as his hands fall on your waist, pulling you slowly onto his lap as your concern grows. “Hey,” you murmur softly, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” When Din doesn’t offer any kind of a response, you press a kiss to his nose and continue. “I think we’ve both scared each other enough these past few days, haven’t we, my love?”

Din scoffs lightly, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath before he places the ghost of a kiss to your mouth. “Yeah. We have.”

You smile in a sympathetic manner at him, pressing a firmer kiss upon his lips before you press your nose against his. “I’m here, Din,” you assure him in a hushed whisper, and Din can feel the butterflies already fluttering within his stomach the moment one of your hands starts to work its way through the hair at the side of his head.

“ _ Rid’ika _ ,” Din begins, using the same hushed tone as you as he brushes his lips over yours. “I… I need to know that you truly  _ are _ here. I need to know that I have you—that you’re  _ safe _ .” Din pauses, his mouth practically already upon yours as he utters his last thought. “I need  _ you _ .”

Din waits for you to make the final move as a sign of your agreement. You do so quickly, keeping every movement of your lips against his own soft and sweet and passionate yet also slow and steady, as if you’re using every moment you have to absorb each other. Din’s hands upon your waist move you even closer to him, bringing your chest right against his own as your hands use his hair to pull him closer to you. Din releases a sound that’s mixed between a sigh and a growl of pleasure at your actions, easily losing himself in you—and you in him. It’s in moments like these where you both forget all about your surroundings, for better or for worse.

When you finally need to part for breath, Din takes the opportunity to rest one hand upon your back, pressing you fully against him and turning until he’s able to ease your back down against the bed with him remaining above you. While Din would easily accept it the other way around, you’ve insisted before that staying between him and the sheets makes you feel safe and secure—and Din would do  _ anything  _ to make you feel protected. He pauses in his movements when his lips are hovering over yours again, stopping to search your gaze that has already found his own. There, Din finds all the same deep affection and desperation that’s lit a fire in his very bones, and that’s what allows him to continue moving forward.

Din’s mouth is on yours again and the rest happens fast, though all your movements stay slow. Before he knows it, he’s got one of your hands laced with his, your entwined hands resting beside your head on the bed as his other hand secures your waist in place. Neither one of your clothes have come off, there isn’t enough time for that. You’re already locked into this moment where you can’t conceive of anything but the heart to which you’re tied, still mildly mindful to that which surrounds you but refusing to let it affect the way you feel and act.

And that’s how Din ends up separating his lips from yours, searching your gaze with the question he’d ask if you hadn’t already done this more times than you can bother to count. But still, he refuses to go on without a sign, an indication that you truly  _ do  _ feel the same way and want the same things. It’s the squeeze of your hand that’s his confirmation, making him smile before he takes your breath away with another kiss.

It’s your utter softness and sweetness that makes Din break the kiss quickly after he’s initiated it, instead favoring the warmth of your neck as he buries a long and satisfied sigh there. Your free hand has started its work in his hair, taking a fistful and pulling it tight as you whimper his name.

“I’m here,” Din reminds you, his voice—though strained—as soft as he can make it. He lifts his face to meet yours again, pressing a few kisses to your nose and cheeks as he swallows back any other sounds of pleasure to instead speak to you more. “I’m right here,  _ cyar’ika _ . And I—I always will be.” Din’s voice is barely above a whisper in his struggle to remain quiet, mindful of those who still reside on the ship but also  _ needing  _ you to know and feel these things.

“And I… for you,” you manage to respond, having to pause to release a sigh of your own. Din rests his forehead against your own, keeping his movements as slow and sensual as before. He needs to absorb every inch of you, every last feeling until he’s burned it into not only his memory, not only into his heart, but also into his  _ skin _ .

“I’ll  _ always  _ be here,” Din asserts, speaking past the groans that yearn to be freed from his throat as he still favors telling you everything that’s on his mind and heart. “I swear.  _ Ori’haat _ .” Din winces both from his actions and from a cruel thought as he closes his eyes, the confliction of brief pain and pleasure making for a dangerous mixture as he voices his fears to you. “Don’t ever leave me,  _ rid’ika _ .  _ Please _ .”

“ _ Never _ ,” you breathe, your insistence—while quiet and airy—still firm as you give his hand a squeeze. “I… I promise, Din. I  _ promise _ .”

Din’s relieved by your assurances enough to reopen his eyes and meet your gaze again, seeing the honesty and pure love you hold there for him. It’s almost as endearing to him as the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, pushed between these promises and sweet moans that are solely a result of the way you’ve tied your minds, bodies, and hearts together. “Your strength amazes me,” Din muses, unable to hold himself back in a moment such as this. “Your beauty is rivaled by that. I don’t… I don’t know what I would do without you, now.”

Your fingers have since moved from Din’s hair to his back, scratching along the skin as Din can feel you creating art that he knows he’ll admire for days to come, no matter how it’s hidden beneath his armor. “You won’t have to know,” you assure him, getting the words out of your tight throat before you sigh his name in a way that draws Din even more into this moment.

From there, Din has completely tied himself to you and you to him, only able to sigh and groan your name between his Basic and Mando’a muses of love and beauty and reverence that he hopes you can understand. With each passing moment, his anxiety lessens, until Din realizes that nothing could ever break this bond—not even the evil awaiting you outside. The way you’ve connected long before this moment is something that transcends this galaxy and Din knows because of that, nothing in this galaxy could ever tear you apart.

He won’t let it.

This is the promise he makes himself and will also make to you once he’s able to string the words together, instead only able to focus on the galaxy of your own you create together as you each bury your reverent exclamations of love and admiration into each other’s skin. Your chests heave in the same rhythm to which your hearts beat, everything bleeding together beautifully as you once again create the sense of a shared body that no one can inflict harm upon. Once Din’s caught his breath, he presses kisses along your neck and jaw until he reaches your face, moving up to your forehead as he allows you to also catch your own breath. When your gazes meet, you both can’t help smiling at each other, even chuckling softly when Din presses his lips upon the tip of your nose.

“I love you,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din mumbles, lifting his hand from your waist to brush some of the hairs out of your face as he further observes you. “I wish I could express it fully, but—.”

“I think you did well,  _ riduur _ ,” you assure him, making Din laugh again as he kisses you once more. Once he’s made you both comfortable again, he lays beside you and pulls you into his arms, kissing your head as you nestle your way into his chest. “Also… I love you too,” you add, causing Din’s very heart to flutter. He makes sure the blankets are covering both of you, making you feel even more safe and secure as he releases a gentle sigh and rests his chin against your head.

“I’ll never let anyone or anything take you away from me,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din murmurs as he presses another kiss to your head. “ _ Ori’haat _ .”

“It’s dangerous to make such a promise,” you whisper, though Din can hear the fondness in your voice. “But I believe you.”

Din can’t help smiling as he closes his eyes and begins to relax even more with you in his arms, praying to the Maker that this  _ is  _ a promise he can keep—though he knows this galaxy has a lot more in store for him than he could ever conceive.


	29. The Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of an escape from the New Republic gone wrong, Din must find a way to keep his family and their passenger alive.

It’s a blaring alarm that jolts you out of your peaceful sleep.

Your husband remains almost completely asleep at your side, simply humming with his face pressed against the nape of your neck as he pulls your back even further into his chest. You furrow your brow as you turn your head over your shoulder, bringing a hand up to his hair as you give his curls a gentle tug. “Din,” you call for him, causing him to stir just a bit more as he releases an unamused groan. “Din, my love, don’t you hear that?”

“It’ll turn off soon,” Din insists, his voice even raspier than usual thanks to his exhaustion. “Just c’mere.”

“I don’t think this is just a little repair, Din,” you insist, hearing the tone get more and more rapid. “I think there’s a ship approaching us.”

You can see Din’s eyes widen at that, his face finally rising as his gaze meets yours. Concern washes over him as he further observes your severity, and instantly he switches from his tired mode to his protective mode. “You’re right,” he breathes, abandoning his place beside you quickly to reach for a shirt and pull it over his head. “Damn it.”

“Here, you’re gonna need some help,” you insist, rising from the bed to hurry over to his pile of armor. Together, you both get Din’s armor back on as quickly as possible, making sure it’s securely in place as Din reaches for the helmet to finish it off. He slides it on, hearing it hiss and click in place before he nods.

“Okay, I’m gonna head to the cockpit,” Din informs you.

“I’ll join you in a second,” you respond, returning his nod as you start to reach for your clothes. “I just have to make myself decent.”

“You always look more than ‘decent,’  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din remarks, sounding almost offended by your statement.

You try your hardest to keep the heat out of your cheeks, instead gesturing towards the closed compartment door. “The cockpit, Din!”

“Right,” Din mutters, opening the panel and then letting it fall closed behind him. You shake your head to yourself, exchanging Din’s shirt for your clothes. When you catch sight of your waist, you can see that some of the skin there has started to turn a faded black and blue, making you bite back a smile as you remember whose passionate grip had just done that. You hadn’t missed your own artwork on Din’s back either before he’d pulled his shirt on. These images somehow comfort you even in the midst of your anxiety about the current situation, helping you to take a deep breath before you finish dressing and join Din in the cockpit.

The alarms have been off for a while by the time you get there, sinking slowly into the co-pilot seat opposite from where the Frog Lady still sleeps. You brace your hands upon the back of Din’s chair as you look through the transparisteel to realize you’re being flanked by two x-wings. Your heart leaps into your throat, especially once you tune in to the voice that’s speaking over Din’s intercom.

“Just one more thing,” the man says, making you raise an eyebrow at Din. He’s evidently too focused to answer you right now, instead trying to think of how to respond to the New Republic pilot.

“Yes?” Din remarks, as if he’s annoyed. You know he most likely is. Din doesn’t like being woken early from his slumber—especially in the aftermath of the things you’d done.

“I’m gonna need you to send us a ping,” the pilot informs him. You swallow hard, seeing Din tense up as the pilot continues. “We’re out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts.”

“I’ll let you know if I see any,” Din assures the pilot, his voice as dry as ever.

There’s a pause. Then, the pilot speaks again. “I’m still gonna need you to send us that ping,” he insists.

Din looks around, not speaking at first as he seemingly tries to think of an excuse. “Well, I’m not sure I have that hardware online,” he says. You nearly facepalm at how unconvincing his words are. Din’s never been a good liar.

“We can wait.”

Din takes a breath, refusing to look anywhere except for the empty space ahead of him. You give his chair a squeeze, hoping it’ll get him to look at you. He doesn’t, instead starting to look across the dashboard again as he gives his helmet a slight shake. “Yeah, I… doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Seriously, Din?” you hiss in a tight-lipped whisper, causing him to finally look at you with a tilt to his helmet that says  _ I’m trying my best, here _ .

“That’s too bad,” the pilot responds. “If we can’t confirm you’re not Imperial, you’re gonna have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi. They’ll run your tabs.”

Din panics and you can easily tell, especially as his helmet lowers. He reaches towards a certain switch on the controls. “Oh, wait—there it is. Transmitting now.” As soon as Din transmits the ping, the Frog Lady wakes up with a few surprised gasps out of her sleep, causing both you and Din to turn to her with panic as Din speaks to her. “Be  _ quiet! _ ” he hisses, speaking out of urgency rather than annoyance.

“What’s that?” the pilot questions.

“Uh, nothing!” Din exclaims with slight hestiance. You nearly let your face fall against the back of his chair. “The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold.” Din then looks back at the Frog Lady again, who’s now since calmed down. You give her a reassuring nod, smiling as well to help her settle even more.

You sit in silence for many moments, waiting for the pilots to respond to the ping and make their exits. Instead, you hear the other pilot over the intercom. “Carson, can you switch over to channel two?” he asks.

“Copy,” Carson says. They then switch off your channel.

You and Din share a nervous glance. You have a feeling you won’t be getting these x-wings off your tail for quite a while. Sure enough, after a few more agonizing moments of nothing, you and Din look and see the x-wings expanding, evidence that they’re planning to make some sort of a move on you.

“Was your craft in the proximity of New Republic Correctional Transport, Bothan-Five?” Carson questions, making both you and Din freeze up. Your fingers instinctively touch the place on your face where you know your scar still runs prominently.  _ That damn prison ship. _

Din simply sits in silence, as if he’s contemplating his next move. You can tell by the way his gloved hands anxiously flutter on the controls that he’s going to run—which prepares you to hold on when he finally does dramatically drop the  _ Crest  _ towards the atmosphere of the nearest planet. The Frog Lady screams with surprise and terror, causing you to look over at her with sympathy as you call out to her.

“Just hang on!” you exclaim over the soaring of the  _ Crest _ , watching her nod as she grips as tightly as she can to the ship and seat.

Din’s still twisting and turning the  _ Crest  _ in ways that even have you gripping tighter to the ship than usual when you hear Carson sound over the intercom again. “ _ Razor Crest _ , stand down,” he commands. “We will fire. I repeat, we  _ will  _ fire.”

“ _ Riduur _ ,” you call for him in a warning tone, your eyes widening as you watch him fly the  _ Crest  _ almost recklessly through the clouds. “You better have a plan!”

“I always do!” Din insists just before he leans forward, putting full resistance on the engines to keep the  _ Crest  _ from advancing forward. You’re nearly forced against the back of Din’s chair at that, watching as Din flexes his arms to keep the  _ Crest  _ from moving any farther forward. You grit your teeth, especially when Din leans back and pulls the levers with him, causing the  _ Crest  _ descend into a freefall.

The Frog Lady screeches again at your side, especially as the whistling of the dead-in-the-air  _ Crest  _ gets louder. You have to try hard yourself not to scream at Din, trusting his piloting skills as you grip onto whatever you can for dear life. Din remains perfectly calm all the way until he gets the  _ Crest  _ back under his control, navigating it towards a gorge in the icy cliffs as he aims to fit the ship somewhere inside it.

You can hear the x-wings just behind the ship.  _ All that work for nothing. _

Din’s starting to breathe more heavily now as he guides the  _ Crest  _ through the icy gorge, sometimes just narrowly avoiding the icy walls as Carson speaks over the intercom again. “Come on,  _ Razor Crest _ , don’t make us do it,” he nearly pleads.

Din turns a corner rapidly, heading towards a narrow rift in the icy rocks. You tighten your grip, your eyes widening even more as you look at the small space. “ _ Riduur! _ ” you exclaim in a warning tone yet again.

“I’ve got it!” Din insists, grunting when he pulls the  _ Crest  _ inside—bumping the engine along one of the ridges as he does so. He’s breathing even more heavily as he dodges every obstacle facing him inside, only briefly turning his head to address the Frog Lady. “Hold on,” he urges, his voice tight as he focuses on his task again. The  _ Crest  _ rocks when the side meets the icy wall again, the belly soon hitting the ground as Din keeps it there and drags it along the ice and snow. He maneuvers the ship until you’re moving backwards, soon urging the levers back once again as you bounce off a ramp-like part of the ice. The  _ Crest  _ lands hard yet swiftly, sliding back until it’s brought to a stop under the shelter of an icy cave.

The three of you in the cockpit are breathing heavily as you wait for any sign of an x-wing, instead hearing them fly by as they seemingly completely miss where you’re hiding out. Din starts to look around, making sure you and the Frog Lady are all right in a way that warms your chest.

“We’re fine,” you reassure him further—your small smile disappearing quickly when you remember the one person who’s not in the cockpit. “But I’m gonna go check in on our son.”

Din gives you an urgent nod, as if he’s upset with himself for not thinking of that earlier. You stand from your seat and make your way out of the cockpit. You only have enough time to descend the ladder to the hull and open the child’s compartment before the  _ Crest  _ starts to buck beneath you, causing your eyes to at least double in size as you start to rock back and forth. You’re about to call out to Din to see what’s happening when you’re suddenly thrown to the wall on your right side—and the last thing you remember before you see black is the free-falling of the  _ Crest  _ through cold, chilling air.

When Din comes to, the first thing he’s aware of is the way his armor’s sticking to the dashboard. Quickly, he lifts his helmet and separates his beskar from the controls, reaching up to toy with some of the buttons and switches that are going off. He realizes his armor’s almost completely frozen over—and that means the ship’s already been sitting here longer than it should’ve.

He turns around quickly in his chair when he hears a groaning sound, seeing the Frog Lady shivering and nearly freezing herself on the floor of the cockpit. Din immediately leaps into action, jumping onto his feet—despite the way his frozen bones cry out at the motion—and helping her off the floor and back into her seat. He tries to find his voice while he settles her back into her seat, but she’s panicking, and Din knows why when he looks in the direction of the cockpit’s door.

“I’ll find your eggs, don’t worry,” Din assures her, his modulated voice still croaking thanks to his unconscious state. He starts to think aloud, trying to process what’s happened. “Gotta’ get you some blankets… keep you warm…” It’s then that he trails off, his eyes going wide underneath the helmet as a hard realization hits him.

You’d been down in the hull.

“ _ Cyar’ika _ ,” Din breathes, his panic climbing as he immediately forces the door to the cockpit open. “Damn it!” Din practically leaps down from the cockpit, and one look around the hull is all he needs to feel his chest constrict at the mere idea of you and your son being down here. “ _ Riduur! _ ” Din calls out, looking with horror to realize that the baby’s compartment is already open with neither one of you in sight. He starts to search the wreckage when you don’t answer. “ _ Riduur! Ad’ika! _ ” Din hears the Frog Lady yell with panic at him, most likely rushing him to find her eggs. He grimaces, not looking to the cockpit as he yells back at her. “I’m finding  _ my  _ family!”

Din’s rushing so much now that he almost doesn’t notice your limp form at first, but upon a second glance, he finds you slumped against the wall of the hull near the hole that’s been letting in all the freezing air. He sighs with relief yet curses at the implications of your positioning, hurrying over and kneeling in front of you. Din assumes the baby’s with you, but he doesn’t see him, making him panic even more as he tries to stay calm to focus on waking you up.

“ _ Cyar’ika _ ,” Din breathes, placing both hands on your shoulders as he tries to shake you awake. You still don’t stir. The knot in his stomach ties up so tightly that he’s afraid he might be sick, yet he keeps going. “ _ Ner kar’ta, gedet’ye! _ ”  _ My heart, please!  _ It’s with more intensified horror that Din finally notices the blood trailing down the side of your head. He reaches a gloved hand forward to brush some of the hair out of your face, revealing a deep cut on your temple that makes Din whimper under his breath. He’s more gentle as he goes back to shaking you. “Please,  _ riduur _ , you gotta’ wake up.”

It’s then that you finally come to, causing Din to release a deep breath of relief that only lasts momentarily when your eyes immediately widen to twice their usual size. You turn to look at him with nothing but sheer panic, even if you can’t move much more. “D-Din,” you stutter, your voice weak and chattering from the cold. “The baby! He—H-He and I g-got separated, a-and—I don’t know… I don’t—I don’t know—are you okay? I—I couldn’t—.” You’re trying to get the words out so fast, faster than Din knows your mind can go, and you nearly start to hyperventilate in a way that makes his heart sink.

“Hey hey hey,  _ cyar’ika _ ,  _ breathe _ ,” Din commands in a gentle yet firm manner, bringing his gloved hands to the sides of your face to make you face him. “You need to  _ breathe _ .”

Your shivering hands take a hold of his wrists as you look at his visor, your chest heaving with breaths as you try to listen to him. Din nods at you in a reassuring manner, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks to comfort you. Your eyelids flutter closed, and if it wasn’t for the grip you have on his wrists, Din would think you’ve gone back under again. There’s so much more he wishes he could do for you—take you in his arms to share his warmth, remove his helmet to kiss your head, anything other than what he has to force himself to do right now. But, with another passenger aboard, it’s too risky for the helmet to come off—and your son’s still missing in action.

“That’s good,  _ cyare _ ,” Din praises you, his modulated voice as soft as he can make it while he continues brushing his thumbs over your face. “There you go.”

You take another deep breath before you open your eyes, still looking at Din with fear. “Our b-baby,” you manage, teeth still chattering from the cold. “Din, you have t-to find our baby.”

“I will, I will.” Din keeps his voice calm for you even in the midst of his own panic, turning his head to start looking around the hull again. He stops when he hears the sound of slurping, only walking away from you then to quickly lift a fallen blanket and observe the baby reaching into the Frog Lady’s container of eggs. The baby looks up at Din with a guilty expression, quickly swallowing an egg he managed to get in his hands. “We told you  _ no _ ,” Din reiterates in his discipline-voice, closing the container and lifting the baby in his hands. He turns to face you with a tilt to his helmet. “See? Our little menace is right here.”

You manage a small smile that instantly starts to loosen Din’s chest again. He walks back over to you, placing the baby—who seems worried now for you—in your arms. You accept him there and tuck him into the crook of your elbow, your smile quickly fading as you look at Din with pained eyes. “Din,” you choke out, the sound of your voice sending Din’s heart right into his stomach again. “I—I’m so c-cold.”

“I know,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din soothes, unclipping his cape and laying it over the two of you. You’re still shivering so violently that the baby’s ears shake with you, making him coo sadly as he nestles his head further into your form. “I need to get something for your head.”

Din moves to stand up and search the hull for the medpac, but you manage to reach an arm out to stop him, causing him to look back to you. “D-Don’t leave,” you beg, your voice cracking in a way that makes Din want to wrap you up and never let you go. “Please,  _ riduur _ .”

“I’m just going to find the medpac,” Din assures you, removing your hand from him and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be right here,  _ cyar’ika _ . I’m not leaving you.”

You offer a weak nod, yet Din’s displeased when he sees you fall back against the wall and start closing your eyes again. It’s almost as if you’re still teetering on the edge of consciousness—and Din knows he can’t allow you to go under again. If you do, thanks to the weakness of your body from the cold, you might not be able to wake back up again.

“Keep your  _ buir  _ awake,  _ ad’ika _ ,” Din tells the baby. He gets a little nod in response, and Din watches as the baby grabs for your face. It makes your eyes flutter back open, which is enough to please Din as he goes searching for the medpac. Thankfully, it hasn’t gone far from its original place, giving him plenty of time to make his way back over to you. He sees the baby trying to reach up and heal your wound, but Din shakes his helmet, forcing the baby back into the crook of your elbow. “No. You have to save your strength, too.”

The baby’s ears fall, though he seems a bit better when Din starts to reach into the medpac and care for your head. He would remove his gloves if he knew his fingers weren’t at risk in the cold of the ship, hoping that it won’t interfere with his precision as he cleans your cut. You’re so out of it that you don’t even react to the stinging Din knows you’re feeling, making him grimace as he works quickly so he can have you warmed up in his arms soon. Once he’s cleaned the blood from your face and cut—which was no easy task with the way it froze to your skin—he secures a bacta patch over the wound, setting the medpac aside as he starts to look around for better blankets.

Suddenly, the Frog Lady steps down from the cockpit ladder, nearly making Din’s heart stall in his chest. In the midst of his concern for you, he’d almost forgotten all about her. She looks at him with panic, saying something in her language that Din wishes he could understand.

“I’m sorry,” Din apologizes sincerely, pointing to the container of her eggs. “I found them, I just—I forgot to tell you. My wife, she’s…” he pauses, turning back to look at you again with a harsh frown underneath his helmet, “... not well.”

The baby coos sadly at that, and even the Frog Lady makes a noise that Din registers as pitiful. He only looks away from you and your fluttering eyelids when he feels a hand on his shoulder, his visor facing the Frog Lady who’s got her eggs hanging off her back. She makes a motion that resembles something else over her shoulders, and after a moment of contemplation, Din understands what she’s referring to.

“The blankets should be somewhere in that wreckage,” Din informs her, pointing towards a place further in the hull. The Frog Lady nods, walking in that direction and thankfully finding the blankets rather easily. She takes up all the ones she can get and brings them over to the three of you, handing all but one to Din. He nods at her. “Thank you— _ very _ much.”

The frog nods, looking for a place to sit. Din decides it’s time to launch back into action once he gets two more blankets around you and the baby, soon standing to get a seat for the Frog Lady. He offers her one and tries to find the old heater he knows he used to have somewhere. It’s not far from the wreckage in which he found you, and thanks to the Maker, it works when Din tests it. It’s not strong, but it’s enough to at least keep you warm for the time being. He turns it on before completing a final task of getting food for the three of you, digging it out from his storage that thankfully somehow didn’t get thrown from its secure shelf in the hull. He prepares three trays and hands one to the Frog Lady before he sits back down next to you. Din easily takes your form and lifts you, setting you between his legs and resting your back against his chest. He wraps himself around you as an extra layer of warmth, reaching for your trays of food and giving the baby his while he holds yours for you.

“You must eat,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din tells you gently, taking a piece of the food between his gloved fingers and urging it towards your lips. He nearly has to push its way into your mouth, making his jaw tighten even more than it already has at your weakness.

“I’m not hun… I just want…” your words are fading more than before once you force the food down your throat, making Din’s heart shatter—even though he knows you’ll be stronger after he gets more of this food in you.

“I understand,  _ ner kar’ta _ , I do,” Din assures you, bringing another piece of food to your lips. “But you  _ must  _ eat. You need the strength.” Din swallows hard, trying to keep his panic at bay as these events start to catch up with him. “I…  _ I  _ need you to. Please.”

“Okay,” you agree weakly, more eagerly taking the third bite of food Din offers you. “Anything… for you, D—,” even in your fragile state, you remember the presence of your guest, “— _ riduur _ .” Your head still rests lazily against Din’s frozen cuirass as he keeps helping to feed you. “Just, please… don’t cry.”

Din chuckles softly at that, easing another morsel into your mouth as he raises an eyebrow beneath the helmet. “I won’t cry,  _ ner kar’ta _ . Promise.”

You nod slowly, finishing your bite before your gaze tries to look up at his helmet. “Good.” Your voice is just barely above a whisper, slowly yet surely getting stronger. “I… I don’t like it when you cry.” You smile weakly before Din gives you another bite. “I’m okay.”

Din rests his helmet against your head for a moment as he gives his reply. “All right,  _ cyar’ika _ .” His chest still aches at his inability to properly care for you. Now that he knows what he’s capable of without his helmet, he realizes what a hindrance it is when his Creed’s at stake.

Once he’s done feeding you, Din sighs lightly, setting the tray aside and letting you fully rest in his arms. Your face buries itself in the cloth of his neck as he keeps you close, finally beginning to address all three of the people he knows he must look after.

“If you hadn’t guessed, we’re in a tight spot,” Din announces, earning his son and the Frog Lady’s attention. He knows he has yours—but he also knows you’re still in a state where it doesn’t matter much at the present. “The main power drive is not responding, and the hull has lost its integrity.” Din looks around at the latter statement. “I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls. I’ll have a better idea of our prospects at that time.” Din then starts to rest his head further back against the wall of the hull, bringing your head with him.

Din freezes when the Frog Lady starts to speak to him, her voice sounding rushed and panic as she gestures to her eggs. He can see the temperature in the canister dropping, but he has no idea what he can do about it. He’s already got three people to keep alive; the idea of at least a dozen more makes him sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry, lady,” Din remarks genuinely. “I don’t understand Frog.” He relaxes again with you, the baby also nuzzling his way into Din’s side with his cape keeping him warm. “Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I recommend you get some sleep.”

Din can faintly hear the Frog Lady worrying to herself, but with your warmth and his son’s, he’s already starting to nod off, hoping he can get at least a bit more sleep than before—and having no idea how he’ll be awakened.


	30. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess tries to rest as Din tries to fix the Crest, causing them both to be neglectful to the chaos soon to come.

“Wake up, Mandalorian.”

It’s the familiar and metallic voice that rips you from your sleep—though, for a quick moment, you wonder if you’re stuck inside yet another nightmare from that day upon the prison ship. You’d been nestled against Din’s chest as his helmet rested against your head, but the move he makes to instantly reach for his blaster and extend it towards Zero’s figure hanging from the wall disrupts that. You release a quick gasp as one of your hands instantly presses upon Din’s cuirass, the metal cold and frozen beneath your fingers as you nearly cower into Din’s figure.

“This cannot wait until morning.” Upon further observation, you can see that the Frog Lady’s standing beside Zero, speaking into a wire that’s connected to his decapitated head. You look up at Din’s helmet, silently questioning why he’d even kept the droid’s body around. You hadn’t been aware that he had it on the ship. “Do not be alarmed,” the Frog Lady continues via Zero. It makes a chill go down your spine as you feel the baby climb onto your lap, one of your hands helping him as he hides away with both you and Din. “I bypassed the droid’s security protocols and accessed its vocabulator.”

You raise your brow.  _ Impressive _ . Din doesn’t have quite the same reaction, instead slowly lowering his blaster as he looks between the Frog Lady and Zero with disbelief. “What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?” Din barks, causing you to throw him a warning glance that he easily disregards. He aggressively reholsters his blaster before he points at Zero. “That droid is a killer.”

“These eggs are the last brood of my life cycle,” the Frog Lady continues, unfazed by Din’s frustration. “My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species.”

The Frog Lady pauses. You can feel Din take a deep breath beneath you, your body moving with his beskar as you feel your own chest tighten with the risks of this crash.

“We fought too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line,” the Frog Lady goes on. “I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to.” The Frog Lady stops, whimpering a few times as she looks Din’s way desperately.

You swallow hard as both you and the baby look up at Din, watching his helmet barely move as he responds with a tight voice. “Look, lady, the deal is  _ off _ ,” Din insists, his tone fuller of exhaustion than it is frustration. “We’re lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our  _ lives _ .”

You sigh gently as you see the Frog Lady lower her head and whimper more, placing your hand upon Din’s cuirass again as you whisper quiet enough for only him to hear. “Din…”

Before you can say more, the Frog Lady continues—now, with more resilience than before. “I thought honoring one’s word was a part of the Mandalorian code,” the Frog Lady asserts, taking you aback at her rather harsh accusation. Your face heats up with sudden anger, especially as you feel Din deflate beneath you. You’d been on board with her before she’d started using your husband’s code against him. “I guess those are just stories for children.”

The baby turns to look up at Din with ears that fall to his sides, his chin tucking into his chest as if he’s encouraging him to do what she’s said. You, on the other hand, sit up further from your place against Din’s cuirass as you frown harshly at the Frog Lady. “It’s not right to use his code against him,” you nearly snap, your brow furrowing as you stare directly at her. “He’s doing everything he can for all three of us right now.”

“ _ Cyar’ika _ —,” Din tries to stop you.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I nearly  _ froze  _ to death,” you press on, ignoring Din’s plea and attempting to get closer to the Frog Lady. Instead, you feel one of Din’s arms wrap around your middle, forcing your back into his cuirass as he keeps you tight against him. “If it wasn’t for him, we  _ all  _ would’ve. And now you think that’s not enough? There’s only so much that can be done!”

“ _ Cyare _ , please—.”

“You knew the consequences when you came with us, we told you traveling sublight would be dangerous! And now, you have the  _ audacity  _ to—?”

“ _ Riduur, k’uur _ .” Din’s words are firm yet calm, as if he understands what you’re feeling but knows he must put an end to your rant. “She’s right. Think about what I’d do if it was  _ our  _ children at risk.” You sink back into his form, now sensing a small amount of shame for the way you’ve just blown up at the Frog Lady. “I must do what I can. Continue to rest.” Din’s gentle as he eases you off his lap, setting you in the place beside him and making sure the baby’s also still comfortable in your arms. He presses his helmet to your forehead in a quick yet gentle manner, soon standing up to search for his toolbox. Din looks to the Frog Lady, offering a small nod before he steps out of the hole in the hull.

As soon as he’s out of sight, the baby whimpers, his little hands grabbing at the blankets that cover you in a vain effort to get closer. You smile at him, kissing his little head as you invite him beneath the blankets with you. “He’ll be all right out there,  _ ad’ika _ ,” you assure him, letting him grab at the fabric of your shirt as his little eyes begin to close. “Promise.” You then look back up to the Frog Lady, noticing her placing her blanket over the container of her eggs. You bite your lip, a fresh wave of guilt running through you as you clear your throat and speak up. “I’m very sorry about what I said. I was just… he’s been through a lot, especially because of his Mandalorian code.” You nearly shiver at the memory of leaving him behind in the blazing cantina on Nevarro.

The Frog Lady nods as if she understands. She says something back to you, but she’s since abandoned her place at Zero’s vocabulator, leaving you to hope that it’s something of forgiveness. You smile at her, nodding as you attempt to get comfortable in the place where Din’s left you. Without him, it’s much harder to achieve any sense of comfort, making you sigh to yourself as you close your eyes and struggle to rest as Din had urged you to.

When you come to again, it’s solely from the sudden and sickly feeling in your stomach. Your eyes nearly double in size at the sensation, your mouth dry as you attempt to let the feeling pass.

It won’t.

You set the sleeping baby aside as you rush to stand up and make your way to the vac tube, releasing the contents of your earlier meal into the metal bowl. When it’s all out, you heave a sigh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you groan and lean against the nearest wall. You accredit the sudden bout of sickness to the events as of late—the effects of the near-hypothermia, the stress of that and the conversation you’d just had, the aftereffects of being tossed around the hull during the crash. It makes sense. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t unpleasant.

Thankfully, when you feel well enough to make your way back over to where Din had set up the heater, you find your canteen still rather full of water. You plop down and draw a few little sips to help your stomach settle further, already feeling more like yourself as you go to sit back next to the baby.

He’s gone—as is the Frog Lady.

You immediately panic. You  _ know  _ you’ve only just left the baby here, but you can’t remember if you saw the Frog Lady when you woke up and got sick. In a scramble, you get back on your feet, tumbling your way out of the ship and into the cold as you search for Din. The brightness of the white snow blinds you for a moment, making you narrow your eyes as you call out for him.

“ _ Ridu—! _ ” you start to exclaim, cutting yourself off when your gaze settles upon the forms of the baby and Din just a few feet away. Your husband’s knelt down in the snow beside the little green bundle, their backs facing you as they look somewhere in the distance. Upon hearing you, however, Din turns around quickly, standing up with urgency as he makes his way over to you.

“What is it,  _ cyar’ika? _ ” Din questions, setting a gloved hand upon your shoulder. You grimace at the way his beskar’s completely frozen over. The baby follows in Din’s footsteps, tilting his head at you as if he’s concerned. “You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Still, you breathe a sigh of relief. “I just—I woke up and realized our passenger and the baby were gone.” You leave out the part about getting sick for now. There’s no need to concern Din over something so fleeting.

“Yeah,” Din sighs, turning his helmet briefly to look towards the place he’d been facing before, “seems like she’s gone exploring in that cave.” When he looks back at you, his helmet tilts in its familiar concerned manner. “I’ll go find her. You two can stay here.”

You start to shake your head, setting your hand over his that’s still on your shoulder as you try to remove it. “No—.”

“ _ Rid’ika _ , please, it’ll be all right.” Din avoids your grasp and instead lifts his gloved hand to your cheek, running the cool leather over the place beneath your eye before he continues. “You may feel better now, but you still need  _ rest _ . I’m afraid we… still haven’t gotten much of that.” You bite back a chuckle at Din’s subtle reference. “Plus, I could use someone to guard the ship while I’m gone.”

You offer a nod, placing your hand more gently over his as you stare deep into his visor. “Okay.” Your words are soft, as if they’ve simply been breathed on air and swept away by the gentle breeze. There’s a pause as you take a breath, running your thumb over the back of his hand. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Din uses his free hand to lift his helmet just enough to reveal his mouth, leaning forward to press a gentle yet loving kiss upon your mouth. “So long as you stay safe, too.” Din’s words are murmured upon your lips, his gentle rasp so quiet that you can barely even hear it. You press another kiss to his mouth for reassurance, making him smile before he pulls away. He lets the helmet fall back in place as he picks up the baby at his side, offering him to you as the little one whimpers softly. “I’ll return soon, buddy. Don’t worry.”

The baby’s ears perk up a bit upon hearing that, making you smile before Din turns around and starts to head towards the looming cave. You bite your lip as you watch him disappear, attempting to alleviate the knot that’s getting tied up again in your stomach before you head back inside the broken  _ Crest _ . The baby’s wriggling a bit in your grip, making you curious as you sit back where you’d been before and draw up the blankets around the two of you. “You’re eager to follow your father, aren’t you, little one?” you tease, chuckling softly as you brush a hand over his furry head.

The baby coos, propping himself up on your middle to face you better. As his hands meet the fabric of your shirt, his brow wrinkles more than usual, as if he’s falling upon a realization. He sits up straighter on your middle, his little hands completely flattening against the fabric as his large eyes begin to flutter closed. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s trying to do—until you realize he must be sensing the sickness you’d felt before and is now trying to heal it.

“It’s okay,  _ ad’ika _ ,” you assure him, brushing your hand over one of his ears in an attempt to catch his attention. “I feel much better now.”

Your words don’t break his trance. Instead, you raise your brow as you sense his strange energy filling the space, warming your middle as his hands remain placed upon it. Just as you’re about to take him by the hands and forcibly remove him from you, the baby stops, his eyes flying open again as he coos loudly. He looks up at you, his brown eyes glittering with some kind of joy and wonder as he smiles with his tiny teeth.

“What?” you ask with a laugh, pulling him up closer to your chest as you press a gentle kiss to his head. The baby just coos even more enthusiastically, tapping one of his hands against you as his eyes somehow get even wider. “Are you happy that I’m feeling better, too?”

The baby releases a long coo, his ears rising on his head as he lets his tiny head fall against your chest. You use a gentle hand to keep it pressed upon you, closing your eyes as you press another kiss to his head. This little one hasn’t even been yours for a terribly long amount of time, but you know you would do anything to keep him safe. It’s selfish of you and Din both to call him your son, you both know, as you try to track down his true people to whom you’ll give him away, but you truly  _ do  _ see him as your son. He’s already a part of your clan of three, as ordained by the Armorer herself. You’re not ready to stop being a mother yet.

Being parents is something you and Din have always seemed to love, ever since you first met him.

It doesn’t take much longer for you and the baby to drift off to sleep together—and it definitely doesn’t take much longer for something to wake you back up. It’s the distant sound of explosions that jerk you awake, also making the baby whimper on your chest as you hold him tight against yourself. In a panic, you stand up and rest your hand on your holster, climbing out of the hole in the  _ Crest’s  _ hull to see what’s happening.

There are flames, smoke, and red flashes of blaster bolts coming from the cave in the distance. It’s  _ Din’s  _ blaster that you hear, going off nearly every other second as the sounds come closer and closer. Your heart falls in your stomach as you draw your blaster, keeping the baby tucked into the crook of your elbow as his ears fall in worry.

It’s the Frog Lady who emerges first, leaping as if she’s running for her life. Din follows closely with her canister of eggs slung on his shoulder, turning to use his blaster as you strain your eyes to see what he’s shooting at. When you do, your eyes widen to double their size, chills running down your spine as you start to instinctively back up closer to the  _ Crest _ . There’s dozens upon dozens of multi-sized white spiders crawling after them, closing in on them no matter how many times Din shoots at them. When he sees you standing outside of the ship, he waves his arm aggressively at you.

“Get back in the ship!” Din orders, his tone leaving no room for argument as you let the Frog Lady in first. You set the baby in the hull along with the canister of eggs Din offers you before you watch the two of them make their way safely to the cockpit. Instead of joining them, you return to Din, standing at his side just as he crushes a spider with his gloved hand. He notices you with panic that’s evident even through his helmet. “I told you to—!”

“Are you crazy?” you scoff, having to raise your voice over the sounds of the spiders that surround you. “I’m not gonna let you fight all these things on your own!”

The two of you start blasting together, but you no there’s still no chance at both of you fighting them all off. Din gestures with his helmet to the hull, and you nod as you climb in first and watch him follow after. You’re both going as quickly as you can, shooting behind you as you make your own way to the cockpit. Din shoots as you ascend the ladder, soon doing the same as you hurry into the cockpit and turn to close the door.

The spiders try to jam it, causing you to curse under your breath as you and Din both shoot as much as you can at the intruding spiders. A few sneak their way in, but you can’t focus on them right now, instead aiming for the majority as you let both your blasters sing.

It’s only when the baby starts to cry out in fear that you look away from the spiders, noticing the one that’s currently terrorizing your son. Before you have a chance to blast the spider, though, someone else does, catching both your and Din’s attention as the Frog Lady breathes heavily with a small blaster in hand. She looks at Din with guilt in her eyes, as if she’s apologizing for whatever caused this mess of spiders to chase after them. He simply turns back to the door, using his flamethrower on the spiders to get the doors closed.

“Thank the Maker,” Din breathes once he’s done that, turning around at the sound of spiders crawling on the ship from the outside. He lunges towards the pilot’s seat, doing what he does best: forming a fast plan. “Strap yourselves in,” he commands, causing you to pick up the baby as you sit in the seat to Din’s left. “This better work.”

You bite back a dramatic agreement, instead focusing on how Din’s going to get you out of this situation as he works his hands over the controls. You’ve never seen him attend to everything so quickly, reaching up and over like it’s second nature. The baby whimpers on your lap, reaching out for Din as he even jumps off to approach his chair. Din scoops him up quickly with his arm, letting him sit on his lap before he continues.

“I’ve got limited visibility,” Din confesses. “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

“It can’t be much worse than before,” you respond, gripping your seat and Din’s tightly as he gets the engines running. The  _ Crest  _ shudders as Din attempts to get it moving, eventually actually getting it off the ground. You even start to smile in a hopeful manner, watching as you climb your way higher and higher out of the cave.

Until something large lands on top of it, causing the  _ Crest _ to crash back to the ground as all four of you thrash around with surprise. You furrow your brow, looking at Din with concern.

“What the hell was that?” you question sharply.

“That would be the mother spider we pissed off earlier,” Din answers, barely getting the words out before one of the aforementioned spider’s legs breaks through the transparisteel of the cockpit and lands directly in front of your seat. You gasp in surprise, all of you turning away—but not before you can feel a shard of the material scratch your leg. The pain’s numbed by your shock and fear for now, especially as another leg breaks through on the other side of Din’s chair.

The spider then briefly stops their assault, moving until you can see their eyes. They look as if they’re studying all of you, trying to plan out their next attack skilfully. You swallow hard, looking to Din to see him watching the spider closely. The baby’s eyes are wide with fear, filling you with the need to console him but continuing to let Din do the job as the spider drags their teeth against the transparisteel. “ _ Riduur _ ,” you say in a warning tone, watching as the spider leans back to gain momentum for some other kind of attack. “We  _ have  _ to do someth—!”

You’re cut off by the loud sound of blaster bolts defeating the spider who stands above the  _ Crest _ , watching as they fall off to the side. The sounds and flashes of red continue, causing you and Din to glance at each other with curiosity and concern. He then hands the baby off to you, nodding as if to silently command you to stay put as he draws his blaster and heads out of the cockpit. You watch him go as your teeth sink into your lower lip, fighting the desire to go with him as you instead comfort the whimpering baby who’s cuddled up in your lap. The blaster fire continues as you watch the transparisteel, waiting for some sign that whoever’s out there is on your side.

You’re temporarily distracted, however, by the pain that returns in your leg from the shard of transparisteel. You curse under your breath, looking to see the blood that oozes from the scratch. The baby seems to notice as he looks towards the wound, his brow furrowing as he instantly makes his way towards it. “ _ Ad’ika _ , no,” you say, trying to pry him away. He’s stubborn as usual, pressing his hand upon it as he closes his eyes and works his magic. You go to fight him more but stop when you suddenly hear voices outside of the cockpit.

“... tabs on the  _ Razor Crest _ ,” someone’s saying. You widen your eyes as you recognize the voice of one of the pilots who’d been chasing you earlier: Carson. “You have an arrest warrant for the abduction of prisoner X-Six-Nine-Eleven.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.  _ That  _ damn  _ job _ . It always comes back to haunt you. You’re about to go fight for Din’s innocence when Carson continues.

“However, onboard security records show that you apprehended three priority culprits from the Wanted Register. Security records also show that you put your own life in harm’s way to protect that of Lieutenant Davan from the New Republic Correctional Corps.” You bite back a smile at his words, vividly remembering when Din took charge in that moment. “Is this true?”

Rather than owning up to his heroics, Din gives the kind of response that best suits him. “Am I under arrest?” he questions, obviously still agitated with them. You chuckle under your breath.

“Technically, you should be,” Carson answers. “But these are trying times.” You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Let’s say I forgo the bounties on these three criminals,” Din starts to offer, making you raise an eyebrow as you wait for his proposal. “Can you two help me fuse my hull so I can get off this frozen rock?”

There’s brief silence before Carson speaks again. “Let’s say you fix that transponder, and we don’t vaporize that antique the next time we patrol the Rim?”

You can nearly sense Din’s frustrated sigh as you hear the x-wings start back up again, making you lean back further in your chair as you resist the urge to make your way out there and demand some kind of assistance thanks to your connection to Arilia. They’re gone before you have the chance to decide. It doesn’t take much longer for Din to return to the cockpit, remaining by the doorframe as he addresses all three of you. “All right,” Din begins, looking pointedly at you through his helmet. “I’m gonna repair the cockpit enough for us to  _ limp  _ to Trask. There’s nothing I can do about the main hull’s integrity, so we’re gonna have to get cozy in the cockpit.” You raise an eyebrow, earning a slight tilt of Din’s helmet that nearly makes you laugh. “It’s the only thing I can pressurize. If you need to relieve yourselves, do it now. It’s gonna be a long ride.”

Din turns to head out of the cockpit, but you set the baby down and approach him before he gets far, grabbing his arm to make him turn around and face you. “Won’t you need help?” you ask, your voice soft as you keep your hold on his arm.

Din gives his helmet a shake, instead inspecting you as his helmet stops on the place where your wound had previously been. “No.” He points at the blood-stained rip in your pants. “What happened? Is that from the spider? We need to take care—.”

“Our son already did,” you inform him, gesturing with your head back to the semi-sleepy baby. Din tilts his helmet with concern, but you beat him to the punch. “I know, I know, I tried to stop him, but it was no use. He’s stubborn—like you.”

Din huffs, giving his helmet a shake but ultimately letting it fall affectionately against your forehead. “From  _ both  _ of us. Let’s be fair now,  _ rid’ika _ .”

You smile at him, nodding and holding his helmet between your hands before he forces himself to step away. As Din goes to grab his tools and fix the ship, you return to your son, rocking him completely to sleep despite the way Din’s work accidentally tries to disrupt him. Thankfully, Din finishes his repairs in record time, the baby already asleep in your arms as he returns. The Frog Lady’s still holding on tight to her canister of eggs as you mirror her with your own baby, watching as Din heads to his seat.

“Okay, the repairs are all done,” Din announces, beginning to work around the controls as he attempts to get the  _ Crest  _ in the air again. “Let’s see if we can get this thing going once and for all.”

The trip up from the ground is as bumpy as before, especially when the  _ Crest  _ manages to scrape the sides of the cave a few times. You hold tight to the baby, praying to the Maker that he stays asleep as you watch the ship make its way back into the light. Din then manages to fly back into the atmosphere, soaring on the path to Trask once again before he sighs.

“Wake me up if someone shoots at us,” Din says, looking pointedly at the Frog Lady. You grimace as you sense a dark-humored joke coming from your husband. “Or that door gets sucked off its rails.”

“ _ Riduur _ ,” you chastise softly, raising an eyebrow when the Frog Lady whimpers with concern.

“I’m  _ kidding _ ,” Din insists, yet you still look at him with doubt as he even dares to continue. “If that happened, we’d all be dead.” He looks at the Frog Lady over his shoulder again. “Sweet dreams.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, grimacing a bit as you attempt to make yourself comfortable in your seat. Sleeping in such a position has never been something you’re able to accomplish successfully—especially without Din being right there with you to rest upon. As the Frog Lady starts to ease to sleep, you watch Din turn to you, tilting his helmet with sympathy as if he’s read your very thoughts.

“Are you comfortable,  _ cyar’ika? _ ” Din questions, his modulated voice now a whisper to mind the two sleeping people in the cockpit.

You shrug, ashamed to admit it but also not wanting to lie to him. Din clicks his tongue with disapproval, gesturing for you to set the baby on your seat. You do as he says, standing up and setting the baby down behind you as you face Din. He waves you over with both hands, inviting you closer as you stand above him. Gently, his hands fall upon your waist, encouraging you to slowly sink onto him until you’re straddling his lap. You raise an eyebrow, silently questioning why he’s put you in such a position with two other people in the cockpit as he lets his frozen helmet meet your forehead.

“Once I’m done admiring you for a moment,” Din starts to explain, already making your face warm, “you can use me as… a pillow of sorts.” Din lifts one gloved hand to cup your cheek, and you can nearly see the smile beneath his helmet as he brushes his thumb over your skin. “ _ Bid mesh’la, ner rid’ika _ .”

You have to try hard to bite back your smile, resting your hands upon his cuirass to keep yourself steady. “Now’s not the time for flattery, Din,” you chastise him softly. “We have to actually  _ rest  _ this time.”

Din nods to agree, his hand that’s still on your waist giving it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t argue with that,  _ cyar’ika _ .” He pauses, lowering his voice even more before he goes on. “Can I at least have a goodnight kiss?”

You giggle at that, nodding as you help him to lift his helmet just enough to press your lips upon his. The kiss is soft and tender yet full of what you both need, making both your smiles melt into each other before you force yourself to pull away. The helmet slides back down and Din’s hands move to your back, encouraging you to press your chest against his as your cheek rests upon one of his pauldrons. Din shifts a bit as he moves to take off that pauldron, setting it aside to make his shoulder more comfortable for you. You smile against the cloth of his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle as you cuddle even further into his warm figure. Din keeps his helmet pressed against the side of your head, somehow easing you into some of the more peaceful rest you’ve had in a long time—and leaving you both blissfully unaware of everything that awaits you on Trask.


	31. The Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess get their new lead, one that puts them into deep waters.

You hear Din’s soft voice before you hear the beeping of the  _ Crest _ , his gloved hands brushing up and down your arms as he pulls you from your rather deep sleep.

“ _ Cyar’ika _ ,” Din calls for you, the sound crackling through his modulator thanks to how soft it’s been. It’s raspier than usual, also heavy with sleep as if he’s also just woken up. “We’re here.”

You let out a soft breath as you press your hands against his cuirass to sit up straighter. You’re still straddling him in the seat, now looking to see the baby rub the sleep from his eyes as the Frog Lady blinks hers away. Your eyebrow quirks up as your tired mind tries to process his words. “Where are we again?”

Din chuckles softly, his hands now gently resting upon your waist. “Trask.” You nod, letting him help you off of him as you instead join the baby in his seat. Din turns to the Frog Lady and addresses her while you do so. “Looks like we made it.” He then faces forward again as he reaches for some of the controls. “Get ready for landing.” When he reaches for something, however, it doesn’t respond as it should, causing Din to hit it with his fist before he grunts a curse of frustration. “ _ Dank farrik! _ ”

You wrinkle your brow as you lean closer to him. “What is it?”

Din speaks without facing you. “The landing array isn’t responding.” 

You grimace. “And that means?”

“Without the guidance system, it’ll be a manual re-entry.” Din’s words are laced with a panic he tries to conceal, his fingers flying over the various buttons and levers as he tries to set everything up. “It might get choppy.”

The baby coos with slight worry on your lap. You give his head a gentle kiss of reassurance, looking over afterwards to see the Frog Lady tightening her hold on her canister of eggs.

“Once we’re through the atmosphere,” Din continues, “there should be enough fuel to slow us down.” He pauses, taking a breath and saying his next words with a haunted exhale. “If we don’t burn to a crisp.”

“ _ Riduur _ , don’t be so dramatic,” you attempt to tease him lightly, your grip on the baby tightening in a way that contradicts your words.

“I wish I  _ was  _ being dramatic,” Din remarks, giving you a quick glance before he starts to help the  _ Crest  _ make its descent.

You’re freefalling through the atmosphere of Trask, picking up more and more speed as you go. It doesn’t take long for hot flames to lick up the sides of the ship, casting an eerie red glow onto the cockpit as the  _ Crest’s  _ alarms start to cry out for mercy. The ship jostles around as you can see Din taking a tight grip on the joysticks, removing one hand for a single moment to silence a specific alarm.

“Come up here!” Din suddenly exclaims to you, immediately making you set the baby down in your seat as you rush up behind him. “I need your hands!”

“What do I need to do?” you ask him, raising your voice above the sounds of the flames licking around the  _ Crest  _ and the alarms.

“This lever needs to stay back,” Din commands, gesturing to one of the levers on his right. “Can you do that?”

“I think I can manage it!” you assure him, holding it tight and pulling it back.

“Keep it steady. Here we go.”

The  _ Crest  _ continues its speedy and dangerous descent onto Trask—but nevertheless, even through the flames, you can see the port coming into view. The view’s coming in too quickly, though; you’re afraid you’re going to crash land way too hard onto it. Before you have a chance to voice these concerns to Din, someone else does. “ _ Razor Crest _ , this is Trask flight control,” a voice says through Din’s transmitter. “Please reduce your speed to port protocol.”

“I’m trying my best here!” Din exclaims his response with frustration, tapping a few more controls before he speaks to your crew again. “Engage reverse thrusters.  _ Brace! _ ”

The  _ Crest  _ rocks back and forth as Din attempts to slow it down, and you have to resist the urge to release the lever you’re still pulling back as you keep yourself steady. Din notices this, looking over at you briefly and then to the baby as he tightens his grip on the joysticks.

“Hold on,” Din asserts, and you can tell he’s trying his best to keep the vessel steady.

“ _ Razor Crest _ , do you copy?” the voice from before returns. “You have to reduce speed.”

You’re nearly ready to curse them out yourself, but you hold back as Din speaks instead. “Almost there,” he says through gritted teeth, as if he’s reassuring himself. “Almost there.”

“ _ Razor Crest _ , do you  _ copy? _ ” the voice still attempts to gain a response—but all you hear is the baby starting to laugh with amusement from his seat. You look to see him smiling and patting his lap as if he’s on some kind of amusement ride. Din says nothing, instead focusing on getting the  _ Crest  _ accurately above the landing dock as skilfully as possible. “ _ Razor Crest _ , you’re coming in too fast. You have to re—.”

Din immediately removes a hand from the joysticks to shut off the transmitter, instead focusing all of his energy into getting the  _ Crest  _ slowed down as he hovers above the landing dock. The  _ Crest  _ sputters as it jolts around, moving very ungracefully as Din attempts to lower it further and further. “Here we go,” Din mutters. “Nice and easy.”

You’re about to take a breath of relief when the engine to your right suddenly blows out, disrupting Din’s attempted equilibrium and sending all of you to the right. Before you can fall against the controls, Din takes an arm and wraps it around your waist, anchoring you to his side as the  _ Crest  _ plunges underwater. You don’t even have time to gasp as you turn to look at Din. “The baby!” you exclaim with worry. “Is he—?”

“He’s fine,” Din assures you, looking over to check on the little one who’s still cooing rather gleefully. You snort at that, setting your hands upon the arm he has wrapped around you as the  _ Crest  _ already begins to get lifted out of the water. The contraption that’s hooked onto the vessel lifts you up and brings you back to the dock, letting the  _ Crest  _ drop unceremoniously as the four of you rock around a few more times. Then, it settles, finally allowing you time to breathe as Din lets you go. “Well I… guess we should make our way into the port,” Din suggests, rising from his seat and taking the baby into his arms. You nod, helping the Frog Lady up and making sure her eggs are secure on her back before you follow behind Din.

The hull is soaked with water and decorated with seaweed and other treasures of the sea, making you twist your lips as Din sets the baby into his pram. You come alongside him, watching him tilt his helmet at you. “She’s in rough shape,” you observe, gesturing to the ship around her.

“She’s seen worse,” Din reminds you. “Remember when I told you about the Jawas stripping her bare?”

You lift your brow and nod. “Oh, yeah. I guess she is pretty tough.”

Din returns your nod, swinging his jetpack over his shoulder and securing it in place. He lets the Frog Lady lead the way before he joins you at your side, brushing his gloved hand over your back as you head off the ship together.

Once you get closer to the port, a Mon Calamari approaches you, a holopad in hand as he faces Din. “So, how can I help you?” he asks, his voice bland and assuming. You look at the suffering  _ Crest  _ behind you, unable to find one thing that  _ can’t  _ be helped.

“Can you fix it?” Din questions, maintaining his patience as his fingers start to curl up anxiously at his sides.

“Fix it?” the worker replies, glancing at the ship and giving his head a shake. “Nah. But I can make it fly.”

Din reaches into the pouch of credits on his belt, offering them in the Mon Calamari’s hand. “Do what you can,” he requests, placing his hand on your back again as he follows after the Frog Lady. “I’ll fuel it up,” the worker calls after you, “if it still holds fuel.”

You nearly chuckle at his words, having to bite your lip to keep your lips from curling up into a smile. You can see Din’s helmet turn to look at you in your peripherals, and you face him to catch the amused tilt he’s giving you. With a shrug, you look ahead, watching as the Frog Lady seemingly searches for her husband.

The Frog Lady calls out in her language, looking around as she stands in place. You step closer to Din at the mere thought of being in such a position, having to wait for him after such a long period of separation. Din takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and giving it a squeeze as if he can read your thoughts.

Then, after a long pause, you can hear a deeper voice also exclaiming in the Frog language—and in the distance, you spot a blue Frog Man, standing just further down the way as he looks through the crowd for his wife.

The Frog Lady squeals with absolute delight, opening her arms towards her husband as she runs over to him. Your heart whirls in your chest at the adorable sight, making you give Din’s hand a squeeze as you look at him with wide eyes full of emotion. He returns the gesture, starting to lead you over to where they’re now sharing an embrace. The Frog Man’s helping his wife set the canister of eggs onto the ground as the three of you step up just behind them, watching their reunion with warm eyes. They touch their noses together in a gesture that reminds you all too much of the Keldabe kiss, only pulling away to look at their eggs together.

You and Din share a nervous glance, hoping they’re not upset at the way there’s definitely a few eggs missing. The baby’s whine pulls you both out of your thoughts, causing you to look over at him as he watches you from his pram. Din’s the one who immediately senses what’s happening, nodding at the baby as he speaks gently. “I know you’re hungry,” Din assures him. “We’ll get you something to eat.”

The baby’s ears fall as he faces forward again, whining one more time as he longingly looks at the eggs. The Frog Man stands from where he’s been kneeling, approaching Din first as he speaks to him in his language and takes his free arm with his hands. He gives Din’s vambrace a few firm yet friendly pats of gratitude as Din nods at him.

“You’re welcome,” Din replies, his modulated voice full of warmth. The Frog Man then turns to you, repeating the same gesture with your free arm as you smile at him and nod to agree with Din’s words. He goes back to Din when he hears him speak up again. “We were told you could lead us to others of my kind.”

The Frog Man nods and steps away from Din, pointing to a building in the distance before looking back at Din. He opens his hand, as if he’s opening the way up for Din.

“The inn?” Din seeks confirmation. “Over there?”

The Frog Man nods again before he helps his wife to take up the canister once again, as if he’s preparing to lead the three of you over there. As you wait, you notice Din’s helmet turn to the side, causing you to furrow your brow at him as you lower your voice. “What is it?” you question, assuming that he’s observed something unusual.

Din takes a breath. “Nothing,” he assures you just as quietly. “I… just thought I saw something.”

“Saw what?” you press on.

“It’s nothing, really,” Din says with a shake of his helmet and a squeeze of your hand. “Promise.”

You nod at him, only facing forward once the Frogs start to lead the way towards the inn. Together, you walk behind the Frogs, the baby trailing close behind you in his pram. The inn’s not far, and soon you’re stepping through the automatic door. Din releases your hand to urge you inside first, watching as the Frog Man waves to the Mon Calamari who must own the place. You turn to watch as Din stops where the Frogs have, first nodding at the Frog Man and then the Frog Lady in silent thanks. He places his hand upon the Frog Lady’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before he steps forward to join you and lets his hand fall back to his side. Your chest warms as you let a small smile spread at Din’s gentleness and kindness.

“What?” Din asks with a soft chuckle, keeping his voice low as you approach the empty table the host’s pointed you towards.

“It’s just—well,  _ riduur _ , it’s  _ you _ ,” you answer, only smiling more when his hand meets your back in hardly concealed affection. “Your kindness never fails to amaze me.”

“Says you,” Din retorts, yet again refusing to accept a compliment as he instead takes your hand to help you into your seat. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his never-ending chivalry, instead letting it warm your chest further as you’re both approached by the Mon Calamari host.

“What can I get you?” the host questions, looking pointedly towards Din first.

“Nothing for me,” Din answers, returning his voice to its usual firm and guarded tone as he addresses the stranger. “Bowls of chowder for my family.” Your brow wrinkles in concern as you look over at Din, thinking about the way he hasn’t gotten to eat something himself in too long.

“These seats are scarce, buddy,” the host insists. “ _ Everyone  _ seated needs to eat.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, he  _ can’t _ ,” you hiss before you can stop yourself, causing Din to give your thigh a squeeze to silence you.

“I can buy something else,” Din remarks, reaching towards his belt to pull out a stack of Calamari Flan. “Information.” The host pauses to look at Din, slowly reaching forward to take the currency and slide it into his grasp. “Have you seen others that look like me?”

The host looks behind him for a moment before he reaches for a tube that descends from the ceiling, hovering it over one of the bowls and letting some of the chowder fill it. “Others with beskar have been through here,” the Mon Calamari informs Din, moving the hose over until it starts to fill your bowl as well. He then pushes the bowls towards you and the baby, also making sure you have spoons as he lets the tube retract towards the ceiling again.

“Who can take us to them?” Din asks, leaning his free arm on the table as he curls his hand into a firm fist.

“I know someone who might help,” the host replies, turning and heading to another table that’s full of Quarren. You’re pulled from their conversation as you watch the baby lean over his chowder with curious eyes, smiling as you watch him use the spoon to get a better look. When you look down at your own bowl, you feel your stomach turn, as if it’s already rejecting what sits there. You know you’d usually be grateful for anything you can scoop up, making you sit there rather uncomfortably as you stare down the bowl.

“What’s wrong,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din suddenly questions from your side, his hand giving your thigh another gentle squeeze as he captures your attention. You look from the chowder in the bowl to his helmet, taking in its concerned tilt as you picture his brow wrinkling underneath it. “I know it’s… unappetizing, but you should eat.”

“I know,” you sigh, looking back down at the bowl with slight frustration. “My stomach’s just not cooperating.” You place a hand over the one he keeps on your thigh, looking back into his helmet with as much reassurance as you can muster. “It’s probably just a little unsettled from the rough landing.” You elect to ignore the most recent time your stomach was sick, accrediting it to a different cause. “ _ You  _ really need to eat soon,  _ riduur _ . It’s been much too long.”

“I know,” Din answers. “I’m working on it.”

Before you can say more, you both suddenly hear nearby chaos as the baby coos in distress. There’s some kind of squid-like creature suctioned to his face, making you panic for a moment as you start to move for him. Din, however, grabs his vibroblade before you can actually do anything.

“Don’t play with your food,” he softly chastises the baby, killing the creature with one quick swipe of the blade. It splashes back into the baby’s chowder as he looks after it, turning his head up to look at the two of you with confusion. You have to bite back a smile, still unable to even think about digging into your own chowder when one of the Quarren walks over to your table. He huffs as he takes the open seat across from you, resting his arm upon the table and looking just past Din’s helmet.

“You seek others of your kind?” the Quarren questions, now looking directly at Din.

“Have you seen them?” Din asks, his desperation laced into his tone.

“Aye,” the Quarren agrees. “I can bring you to them.” He then chuckles, taking the time to look between you and the baby.

“Where?” Din presses.

“Only a few hours’ sail,” the Quarren insists. He then looks at Din with severity. “It’ll cost you, though.”

Din simply returns his stare, eventually nodding in agreement. The Quarren tells you where to meet him in the port, allowing you and the baby to finish your meals as he steps away. Din faces you, looking from your full bowl of chowder to your face. “Don’t worry about eating all that,” Din assures you softly. “But can I ask you to have just one spoonful?”

You smile at the pure care and concern that laces his modulated tone, nodding as you lift the wooden spoon. Despite the way your stomach absolutely revolts at the smell and very soon the taste, you swallow down a spoonful, even going for another in a way that makes Din squeeze your thigh again with pride.

“There you go,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din praises you. “Just a little bit for the trip.”

You nod, trying to hide the hard swallow you take as you push the nearly-full bowl away from you. The baby’s finished not long after thanks to his bottomless stomach, and soon the three of you are heading back to the port. Din finds the Quarren he’d talked to earlier, and before you know it, you’re all headed out into the deep seas aboard their boat.

And that chowder  _ still  _ isn’t agreeing with your stomach.

You know Din can tell by the way you’re shifting your weight between your feet, trying to focus on anything but the vast and empty horizon and the swaying of the boat beneath you. Eventually, though, you know his curiosity gets the best of him, and he steps closer to your side where the three of you have been looking out at the water. His gloved hand rests on your lower back as his helmet grazes your ear.

“Is everything okay,  _ riduur? _ ” Din questions, his modulated voice low as if he’s trying to keep anyone else from hearing it. “You seem… anxious.”

“I’m—fine.” You have to pause quickly to keep some of the bile from rising in your throat. It’s been a long time since you were last on a boat; you’re assuming the mixture of that with the chowder is responsible.

Din, however, definitely doesn’t find your words convincing, and instantly he uses his other gloved hand to make you face him as he places it upon your cheek. “Please, don’t lie to me,” he pleads gently, more out of concern than anything else. He moves his hand to your forehead, as if he’s assessing you for a fever. “Are you sick? Is it from Maldo Kreis?”

You close your eyes for a moment to focus on breathing when the pit in your stomach starts to open up wider. “I think… it’s the boat,” you get out in a breath, and when you reopen your eyes, you can see Din already seeking out help from a nearby Quarren as he speaks to them.

“Do you have anything for seasickness?” Din questions, gesturing to you. “My wife’s not well.”

The Quarren walks near a stack of cargo to grab a wooden pail, handing it to Din without another word. You can see him look inside it before he tilts his helmet in an unimpressed manner, sighing loud enough for you to hear as he walks back over.

“I guess this is for in case you… you know,” Din tells you, taking you by the hand as he helps you to sit on top of a nearby cargo box. He then hands you the pail, and almost immediately you’re putting it to great use. You can hear the baby’s pram close up beside you before one of Din’s hands is gently rubbing your back and the other is keeping any wisps of hair from falling in your face. He sits beside you and coos sweet nothings into your ear as best as he can manage through the modulator, though thankfully your bout of sickness doesn’t last for long.

When you sit up straight again with a few heavy breaths, Din instantly reaches into the emergency pouch on his belt, taking out a small canteen of water that he brings to your lips. He only gives you a small sip, not wanting to overwhelm your stomach as you recover. Within moments, you start to feel immensely better, blinking a few times to refocus yourself as you look into Din’s visor. He tilts his helmet at you, running a gentle hand over your cheek to properly assess you.

“Better?” Din questions, earning a nod as you smile at him. “I didn’t know you were seasick.”

“Well… if I’m being honest, I think I might have a virus or something from Maldo Kreis,” you confess, causing Din’s helmet to straighten out with more intensified concern. “I don’t think it’s that serious, but I did get sick on the ship when you were outside working.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” He sounds more upset with himself than he does with you.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t want to worry you, and it didn’t seem like a big deal when it happened then.”

Din sighs, looking beyond you for a moment as he processes your words. He turns back to you with another tilt to his helmet. “Once we get the information we need, then we’ll get you to a doctor and find out for sure what’s going on,” Din assures you. “Okay? We’ll go somewhere reliable.”

You nod to agree. You’re sure it’s nothing serious, but you’d rather put Din’s mind at ease by visiting a doctor just to be certain. You’re about to voice these exact thoughts to Din when you’re approached by a different Quarren, one who looks as if he’s trying to make you feel better. Feeling embarrassed, you avoid the Quarren’s glance by staring at the baby’s pram, which you can hear Din open with his vambrace as he sees you look that way. “You ever see a mamacore eat?” the Quarren asks, trying to sound as light-hearted as possible. Neither you nor Din answers, but he continues. “Quite a sight.”

You look from the bubbly baby—who’s glancing around the boat as if it’s the greatest wonder in the world—to Din, whose visor meets your gaze with curiosity. He takes the pail from you and sets it on the ground, still remaining silent as the Quarren goes on.

“The child might take an interest,” he shares, “and it might get your mind off your stomach.” The baby looks up at you and Din as if he’s pleading for you to say yes, causing you both to look at each other again. “You should take a look.”

You shrug, looking back to the Quarren with the best smile you can manage. “Sure, why not?” you say, letting Din help you off the cargo box.

“Come on over here,” the Quarren says, guiding the three of you to a large, metal grate that sits in the middle of the ship. “Get a good view. Let the kid see.”

There’s a large dip that goes from the floor of the boat to the closed grate, and you can tell it makes Din nervous as you and the baby shuffle rather closely towards it. “All right, close enough,” Din insists, standing beside you as he nervously looks to the baby who stands on your other side. You give him a look of reassurance, facing forward again as you watch the Quarren navigate a net full of fish over the grate.

One of the other Quarren opens the grate, allowing for the fish to fall into the water as the Quarren near you steadies the net with his metal fishing gaff. You wait for a few moments before bubbles start to arise to the surface, foaming up in multiple places as the creature consumes their meal of the day. “She must be hungry,” the Quarren comments, holding on tight to his fishing gaff as he stands beside the baby. The little one coos with curiosity, leaning further over his pram to get an even better look. “Oftentimes we’ll feed her in the early morning, but we missed that ‘cause we were goin’ out of  _ port! _ ”

Suddenly with his last word, the Quarren swings his fishing gaff back and hits it against the back of the pram, forcing the baby right into the center of the waters. “ _ No! _ ” Din exclaims, his hands braced in a fighting position as you stand frozen in shock. The baby only has enough time to reach out and close the pram before he’s consumed by the giant mamacore, making you gasp audibly as your heart plummets into your stomach.

Before you can even start to think about processing what’s just happened, Din’s diving into the waters from beside you, making you panic even more as you watch him go. “ _ Riduur! _ ” you call after him, your voice breaking in your worry as you take a step forward. You’re about to dive in with him when both your arms are restricted by two of the Quarren, making you writhe around and fight as hard as you can to try to get out of their restraint. “Let me go! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Lock it up!” the Quarren from before exclaims. “Go, go! Now!  _ Go! _ ” You can nearly feel the bile from before rising in your throat again as they close the grate, leaving Din and the baby trapped underneath it. You haven’t seen any signs of Din since he first dove in, only making your panic rise as you keep tugging at the Quarren’s grips. The one who’d knocked the baby in looks at you with a malicious tilt to his head. “We’re gettin’ rich,” he finally answers, turning back to the grate as other Quarren come alongside him with their own fishing gaffs. “The beskar is ours!”

“ _ No! _ ” you explain in protest, willing all your strength and training to fight the Quarren off as you kick your leg into one of their shins. They give way for a moment, allowing you to tug your right arm free as you throw your elbow into his face. He backs off—only to be replaced by another, who kicks the backs of your knees and forces you to the ground. He points the tip of his fishing gaff to your neck, letting it hover there in a menacing manner as you’re officially placed at their mercy. Still, you hold his gaze, narrowing your eyes right back at him. “You’ll regret this.”

“Tell that to whoever we sell you to,  _ princess _ ,” the Quarren snaps back, making you grow cold as the sudden sound of coughing draws your gaze back to the grate. You can see Din’s gloves gripping the iron bars of the grate with desperation, making your chest burn as your entire expression falls.

“Drown him!” one of the Quarren commands, and a group of them start to jab their fishing gaffs at Din’s hands and armor through the grate. They’re sick enough to laugh as they work, only horrifying you further as you watch Din struggle to stay afloat. Even if he was the most gifted swimmer in the Outer Rim, you know that Din  _ will  _ sink over time with all his armor on—a thought that only panics you further.

“Stop it!” you demand, earning a poke to your neck from the fishing gaff. “Let him out!”

“Get him!” the Quarren keep shouting, drowning you out completely. “Get him! There we go!”

Din’s fighting as hard as he can and you can tell—until one particularly hard thrust of the fishing gaff through the grate knocks straight into his cuirass. You can hear the strike of the beskar even from where you kneel at the edge of the grate, causing you to gasp as you watch him go under. “ _ Riduur! _ ” you call for him, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to find him beneath the murky waters.

After a long silence, you suddenly hear the water splash, followed by a loud gasp for breath. The sound of it shatters your heart, but it gives you hope as Din continues to fight. “He didn’t sink!” one of the Quarren cries out. “Finish him!” You watch as Din fights to keep his cuirass pressed up against the grate, his gloved hands moving along the iron bars to avoid the jabs of the Quarren’s gaffs. “Keep him down!”

“Let him  _ go! _ ” you yell, gasping yourself when they hook the edge of their gaff completely around the front of your neck.

Just as you can see Din starting to give up his fight against the persistence of the Quarren, the sound of a jetpack comes from the distance, and you look up to watch as a Mandalorian lands and immediately launches into combat against the Quarren. She gets the Quarren off Din’s case first, and you can hear Din still gasping desperately for breath from beneath the grate. The sound scares you enough to make you resist your captors yet again, letting the arrival of the Mandalorian distract them as you leap to your feet and give your arms a hard tug. You free yourself from their grips, taking the fishing gaff in front of you in your grasp as you force it right back towards the Quarren himself. It hits him hard in the face, making him fall back a few steps as you turn to the other and unholster your blaster to shoot him dead.

When you take a quick moment to look around, you notice two other Mandalorians have also joined the first one. You’re about to smile when you feel the metal bar of a fishing gaff around your neck as a Quarren tries to choke you from behind. You kick their shin hard to make them stumble, ducking beneath the gaff and turning to throw a punch into their stomach. Before you have a chance to shoot them, one of the other Mandalorians does, nodding at you before they continue taking out the rest.

With them successfully occupying the Quarren, you rush over to the grate, kneeling above the place where Din is as you place one of your hands over his on the bars. “Din!” you call to him, assuming it’s okay to address him by his name in front of his own kind. “Just keep hanging on,  _ riduur _ , I—I’m gonna get this thing open!”

Din simply coughs in response, making you leap up as you hurry over to where you’d first seen the Quarren open the grate before. You pull on the lever to open it up, watching as the other Mandalorians finish their fight and make their way over to Din. The first one you’d seen reaches a hand out to Din, and thankfully he manages to catch it as she tugs him out of the water.

You’re already rushing over, just beginning to hear what Din’s saying to her as she pulls him up. “There’s… a  _ creature _ ,” Din gasps, his voice broken from all the water he’d breathed in as he struggles to get back onto the boat. “It has the child.”

“On it!” another Mandalorian says, not hesitating for a moment as she dives right into the water.

The Mandalorian helps Din to stand up and get to a nearby cargo box, where you meet them as she seats him beside you. You start to reach for him, though he doesn’t respond to your touch as he finishes speaking to the other Mandalorian. “The child,” he pleads, still coughing as he speaks. “Help the child.”

“Don’t worry, brother,” the Mandalorian assures him with a hand on his shoulder, looking back towards the grate. “We’ve got this.”

Din only relaxes a bit then, turning towards you as your hands meet the sides of his helmet. You pull it to your forehead, forcing yourself to take a deep breath as you keep him close. It’s Din who speaks first, his voice still broken as he struggles for the air he desperately needs. “ _ Cyar’ika _ ,” he croaks, his wet gloves holding your face in return as he observes you. “Thank the Maker that you’re okay.”

“That  _ I’m  _ okay?” you remark, chuckling in your disbelief as your gaze quickly rakes over him. “And what about you? I—I was  _ so  _ scared,  _ riduur _ .”

You can tell Din’s about to speak before a loud splashing cuts him off, causing you both to turn back towards the grate as you watch the Mandalorian who’d gone after the baby return with the pram in her hands. It’s dented in a few places, causing your heart to sink as she sets it on the boat beside Din. She rips off one of the panels, gently taking the baby out of it. He’s as relaxed as ever, looking around with wonder at all the new company.

“Here you go, little one,” she says as she hands him off to Din, who’s already been waiting to accept him with anxious arms as he pulls him close. You lean over his shoulder as he assesses the baby for wounds, tugging at the collar of his robes just to make sure he’s all right. There’s a weight that falls off your shoulders when he coos up at you two with his usual amount of delight, tilting his head as if nothing had happened at all.

Din looks up at the three Mandalorians that now stand across from you, your gaze following his as you look at them. “Thank you,” Din says genuinely, his modulated voice still breaking but still conveying his deep emotion. “I’ve— _ We’ve _ been searching for more of our kind.” He gestures with his helmet to you, which causes you to instinctively move closer to his side.

“Well, lucky we found you first,” the one in the middle says. There’s something about her voice and even her armor that’s familiar to you, but you can’t place what it is, staring into the white and owl-like paint on her helmet as you try to figure it out.

“We’ve been quested to deliver this child,” Din shares, looking down at the baby again as he speaks. “I was hoping that—…”

Din cuts himself off when all three of the Mandalorians suddenly reach up to take off their helmets, holding them under their arms as you view all three of their faces. The baby coos up at Din as if he’s expecting him to do the same. You can nearly feel the tension that suddenly radiates from Din as he struggles to stand up, and you follow as you get a good look at them. Viewing the one in the middle nearly knocks the air from your lungs as your previous thoughts suddenly come together.

“Bo-Katan?” you question, your voice barely above a haunted whisper—but she still catches it. Her own eyes, green and as sharp as you remember them, widen at the sight and sound of you.

Bo-Katan breathes your previous title and name as she looks at you. “You got off Arilia alive?” she asks.

“And you got off Mandalore alive?” you retort, amazed to see that she’d somehow escaped the Great Purge.

“What… What do you mean?” Din says next, capturing your attention again as he looks between the two of you with confusion. He looks pointedly at Bo-Katan when he goes on. “Where did you get that armor?”

Bo-Katan looks at Din with confusion, raising her brow. “This armor has been in my family for three generations,” she answers.

“You do not cover your face,” Din reminds her, his voice low and nearly hostile as he glances over her. “You are  _ not  _ Mandalorian.”

The man on Bo-Katan’s left speaks up with a voice full of dread. “He’s one of  _ them _ .”

“ _ Dank farrik _ ,” the woman on Bo-Katan’s right curses, looking away as she speaks.

“One of  _ what? _ ” Din nearly seethes, making your chest tighten as the tension rises.

Bo-Katan simply stares at Din for a moment, soon releasing a breath before she speaks again. “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze,” she introduces herself, taking a few steps closer to Din. “I was born on Mandalore and fought in the Purge. I am the last of my line.”

You grimace at that, remembering how many relatives and rightful heirs the Kryze clan had to the throne of Mandalore. Arilia hadn’t done too many relations with the planet, but your one or two events with their people present had been quite memorable before the Purge happened.

“And  _ you  _ are a Child of the Watch,” Bo-Katan informs Din, looking at him with grave severity in her gaze.

Din stands there with visible confusion for a moment before he responds. “The Watch?” he echos, his tone full of disbelief.

“Children of the Watch are a cult of religious zealots that broke away from Mandalorian society,” Bo-Katan explains. Her words instantly send your heart sinking into your stomach, especially as you sense Din’s entire body tensing up beside you. “Their goal was to re-establish the ancient way.” As she speaks, her gaze falls to the baby in Din’s arms, who coos up at Din with what you think might be sympathy. He even reaches a little hand up to him for reassurance.

Din isn’t receptive of such behavior. “There is only  _ one  _ way,” Din insists, his tone gruff as he faces Bo-Katan boldly. “The Way of the Mandalore.” He then steps away from Bo-Katan, turning towards you and urging the three of you away from the other Mandalorians. His hand grips your waist as if he intends on taking you into the air with him, but you press your hand over his, making him stop as you face him closely.

“Din,” you murmur, trying to find his gaze behind the visor as you wrinkle your brow in concern. “You shouldn’t run from this.”

Your words seem to strike a nerve within Din as his arm snaps away from your body, nearly whipping your hand back to your own side. “Run from what?” Din snaps. “A  _ liar? _ ”

“ _ Riduur _ , I  _ know  _ Bo-Katan,” you tell him softly, still trying your best to be gentle as you reach for the sides of his helmet. He backs away before you can do so, making your heart shatter in your chest as he starts to close himself off from you. “I met her in my days on Arilia. She might know more about your kind.”

“She knows  _ nothing _ ,” Din hisses, and you can see his free hand clench into a fist at his side, “and she is no Mandalorian if she doesn’t follow the Way of the Mandalore.”

You sigh with frustration, unused to Din being so hostile with you. “But, Din, she might have some answers. We should at least just—.”

“I refuse to entertain such lies,” Din remarks sharply, “but I won’t keep you from being deceived, if you’d rather believe  _ her _ . I’m sure I wouldn’t understand such royalty and politics.” Din’s words are sharper than you know he meant them to be, but before either one of you can say anything more, he’s taking off with the baby in arms, leaving you behind with the three Mandalorians.

You stand there in awe for a long moment, unable to believe that your husband’s just done such a thing. It makes an icy shiver run down your spine as you try to process it. Din’s never acted in such a way, even before you developed feelings for each other—leaving you to believe that Bo-Katan’s words have done something worse to him than the Quarren could’ve ever tried to with the grate.

“So, Princess,” Bo-Katan splits the tense silence, raising her brow at you, “care to share how you ended up being acquainted with a Child of the Watch?”

You quickly tell all three of them the story of the child and how you and Din started working together, explaining what you could of his covert and what he’s told you about his Way. They seem to understand even more as you tell them that he’s a foundling, closed off from any other knowledge of Mandalorians outside of his own covert. You tell them of how you’ve been adopted into his own clan, quested along with him to return the child to the Jedi. Bo-Katan’s expression is nearly sympathetic as you finish, her green eyes full of understanding as she nods slowly.

“Had I known all that, I wouldn’t have mentioned it to him in such a way,” Bo-Katan remarks, her voice full of guilt. “I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assure her. “You didn’t know.” You look back to the distance, now completely losing sight of Din and the baby as they fly far away. “And he needs to learn not to be so stubborn.”

“But it’s a lot,” Bo-Katan insists. “Mandalore’s history has never been simple.”

You scoff lightly at that. “You could say the same thing about the rest of the galaxy.” You take a deep breath, looking between all three of the Mandalorians—the other ones being named Koska Reeves and Axe Woves—and gesturing with your head towards the port. “If you don’t mind getting me back, I’ll try to talk to him and convince him to have a  _ real  _ discussion.”

Bo-Katan nods in agreement. “We can get you back.”

You thank her with a nod, taking one more look into the distance as a new weight falls upon your shoulders. The kind of comforting you’ll have to do is much different than anything you’ve had to do with Din so far, and you have no idea where you’ll even begin. You’ve never seen him so upset before—and you just pray to the Maker that you’ll be able to get to him at all.

And you also pray that he won’t make himself choose between rejecting you or rejecting his Way.


	32. Devastation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din grapples with everything he’s just been told by Bo-Katan, trying to fight through his feelings of loss, self-hatred, and confusion, while the princess tries to figure out how she can possibly help him.

From the moment he was in the air, Din regretted leaving you.

It was even before the baby cooed almost angrily in his arms, his tiny claws fisting the material of his cape upon his shoulder as he looked back at your fading form. There was a coldness that’d sunken so deeply into his bones, one that went beyond the water which still drenched him; a darkness that’d pulled him under so quickly, one that suffocated him more than the water beneath the grate ever could’ve. But all of that intensified the moment he left you, his one solace that he knew he needed.

Now, Din’s truly fallen under.

He wonders if you’ll ever find him where he stands now, alone in this room beside the place where the Frog family is staying. They’ve been kind enough not only to offer him the room, but also to watch after the baby. Din knows he’s in no condition to do so himself. It’s yet another reason why he shouldn’t have left you.

It’s grown dark outside and Din grows concerned at the fact you still haven’t turned up. But he doesn’t give himself the luxury of worrying for you. He knows he doesn’t deserve to.  _ He  _ was the one who left you, despite the fact that just days ago he was the one begging  _ you  _ not to leave  _ him _ , the evidence still present in long red scratches upon his back. He doesn’t get to play the role of the concerned husband, calling out your name through the port to get you back into his arms as quickly and safely as possible. He doesn’t even get to be the adopted father of your son, keeping him close for comfort as his mind torments him relentlessly.

Din’s come to realize that he really doesn’t deserve to have any titles at all.

Somehow, Din lost himself on that boat, somewhere in those deep waters where the Quarren had tried to drown him. He doesn’t know who he is anymore. He’s not the husband he vowed to be for you. He’s not the kind man you said he was just hours before at the inn. He’s not the fierce warrior who could keep you and the baby safe on that boat. He’s not the man of honor who holds tight to his word.

He’s not even sure if he’s a real Mandalorian.

Din’s still dressed head-to-toe in all his armor, afraid that if he takes even just one piece off, he’ll never gain the strength to put it back on again. He saw how you acted with those Mandalorians. Din’s always trusted your judgment—and when he heard the way you addressed Bo-Katan with such respect, Din  _ knew  _ she was a true Mandalorian. Yet, he never even knew of her existence. Her helmet came off, and she was  _ still  _ a Mandalorian.

Why couldn’t he do the same?

All those years spent trapped within his armor, almost dying at the expense of upholding his Creed, never removing his helmet to stay true to the words he’d sworn—Din starts to wonder if it was all in vain. He even starts to fear that  _ everything  _ he’s been taught is a lie. Din imagines a life where he was never restrained by his Creed, able to breathe in the air of the planets he visited just as freely as anyone else can, able to smile the first time he saw the baby, able to kiss you the moment you took his heart into your hands.

Din fears too much of his life has been taken from him already.

Before he can fall even deeper into his tumultuous thoughts, Din finally hears the door slide open behind him. He’s been staring out of the window covered by translucent curtains ever since he stepped inside, simply standing with a restless ache resounding through his bones as he stays as still as a statue, as empty as the beskar shell of a man that he is. Din knows it’s you standing there, taking a cautious step into the room as the door slides closed behind you. A pregnant silence fills the air, tense in a way that chokes him like the water had done just hours before.

“I shouldn’t have left you there.” Din needs to speak before you do, barely recognizing the choked sound of his voice that tumbles ungracefully from his modulator. “I should’ve listened to you. I know. I… I made a mistake.”

You still don’t say anything for a moment, though Din can hear your boots against the floor as you take a few more steps towards him. “I’m glad you realize that.” Your voice is calculated, yet it’s still soft, evidently sympathizing for him in a way he doesn’t deserve.

Din gives his helmet a quick shake, despite the fact he’s still not looking at you. “Don’t do that.”

A pause. “Do what?”

“Feel sorry for me, as if I deserve it. You know I don’t.”

“I hardly think you deserve to tell me what I can and can’t feel, Din.” Your voice has become more firm, now, but Din’s been expecting that. Another silence ensues, and this time you’re the one who breaks it. “You didn’t come back for me.”

“I didn’t go back for you because I… didn’t feel worthy of you.”

You scoff. “Worthy of me? So, what, you decided that you’d just… leave me there? With three strangers?”

“You knew one of them.” Din bites the words out quickly. He shouldn’t have. There’s a lot of things he shouldn’t have done—especially today.

Din hears an incredulous laugh fall from your lips. “Yes, I met with Bo-Katan  _ twice  _ on diplomatic occasions before our home planets were destroyed and purged.”

“And yet you trusted her more than me.”

You take two more steps closer to him. “That is  _ not  _ true, and you know it.”

Din’s fingers start to curl into anxious fists at his sides. “You were going to take her word over mine.”

“I was going to try to get you to  _ listen  _ to her, Din, because you’re too stubborn to do it on your own.”

Now it’s Din who scoffs. “She was going to lie to me about my entire way of life, and you wanted me to  _ listen? _ ”

“I saw her rule Mandalore!” Your voice has risen quite a bit, now, but Din knows he deserves it. “I thought she would know something that could help you!”

“You saw her rule Mandalore, yet you never thought to tell me, did you? You never thought to tell me that you’d seen other Mandalorians take off their helmets?”

“I thought you’d  _ all  _ changed your ways after the Purge to keep yourselves safe! How was I supposed to know your people broke off from hers?”

Din’s visor finally moves from its deadpan at the window to the floor beside his shoulder, his voice as short and hostile as it’s ever been with you as he speaks. “How could you believe  _ her  _ over  _ me?  _ Do you hear yourself, already beginning to believe that it was  _ my  _ people who broke off from Mandalore and not  _ hers?  _ This isn’t  _ politics  _ or  _ history  _ for me. This is my  _ life _ , everything I’ve ever known since I watched my parents die. I can’t just stand there and try to ‘debate’ it. I don’t have that luxury.” Before you can say more, Din faces the window again, the leather of his gloves pulling tight over his knuckles as he closes his fists. “You don’t believe I’m a real Mandalorian.”

His words earn another silence that blankets the room, making it feel darker than it already is with its dim lighting. When you speak again, your voice is strained, and Din’s heart plummets into his stomach just at the sound of it. “Take off your helmet.”

Din doesn’t speak. He can’t even move. For some reason, he feels uneasy about completing such a gesture, wondering why you’d demand such a thing. It’s not like you.

“Take off your helmet, Din, or else I’ll do it myself.” Din can hear you take a step closer. He tightens his fists even more.

“Why?” Din forces the word out through a choked-up throat. “You respect my Creed, don’t you?”

“Because, just listen to yourself. You’re acting as if we haven’t been married for some time, now, and that I get to see your face. You’re not solely defined by your status as a Mandalorian. You’re so much more. Take off the helmet and maybe you’ll start to see that, too.”

Your words, while they’re stern, are also much softer than before. Din instantly starts to relax, his fingers uncurling at his sides as he turns his helmet over his shoulder. The gesture invites you to come closer, until you’re standing right in front of him. Din doesn’t stop you as you reach up for his helmet, your hands slightly trembling—but Din can’t tell if it’s from your emotions or from something else. It hisses as you slide it off, taking away the dark haze of Din’s visor as he’s forced to look upon you with his own eyes.

And that’s when Din fully realizes this is what he’s needed all along.

It doesn’t take long for Din to crumble, then, barely allowing you time to set the helmet aside before he takes your face in his hands and holds it there. “I’m sorry,” Din gushes, his voice a haunted whisper as the tears already start to spring to his eyes. “I’m sorry,  _ rid’ika _ , I—I don’t even deserve to call you such a title, I… I know you just want to do what’s best for me, that you—you love me when I can’t even love myself, and I—.”

“ _ Shhh _ ,” you hush him gently, easing his hands off your face to instead hold them to your chest. “I understand.” Your tone is just as gentle, the words sounding as if they’ve been breathed on air as you lift one hand to cup his cheek. Din leans into your touch desperately, his eyes falling closed as he focuses on trying his best not to let his emotions overtake him. He’s done enough of that already and he’s seen how it’s damaged not only himself, but  _ you _ .

“I’m afraid,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din confesses, his voice still no louder than a whisper as he feels a warm tear glide down his cheek. You’re quick to brush it away with your thumb, and when he reopens his eyes to meet yours, he can see much of his own devastation reflected back at him in your gaze. “I… I’m afraid I don’t know who I am anymore.”

You shake your head at him, gently easing his face towards yours until your foreheads touch as you speak to him. “Nothing about you has changed, Din.  _ I  _ still know who you are.” You cup his other cheek as well, now, your thumbs brushing away any other stray tears as you go on. “You are brave. You are loyal. You are passionate.” You pause, one of your hands drifting down to his right pauldron as your fingers brush over the mudhorn signet. “You are  _ protective _ —especially over those you care for.” Both hands hold his face again, keeping it close as you continue. “That’s why you couldn’t hear what Bo-Katan had to say about your people. You care too much for them, you’re too passionate about and loyal to the Creed you’ve followed. And that isn’t a bad thing.”

Din exhales gently, swallowing hard in a vain attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat as he tries to speak. “Even if that’s true, I… still left you there.”

“Yet I came back.” You brush one hand down his cheek, letting your fingertips run over the fabric of his cowl and onto his cuirass. “Would I have come back to you if I felt you were undeserving of me?”

Din’s not sure what to say anymore. All the words have left his mind and the breath’s been knocked from his lungs at the power of your kindness, your wisdom, and above all, your  _ love _ . Instead, he can see your image blurring even more before him, the walls he’d tried to build up since leaving you instantly starting to crumble down as he seeks a safe and secure release. “ _ Riduur _ ,” Din whispers, his voice breaking though he tries to stay strong, “can you… can you hold me? If even just for a moment?”

You don’t hesitate to comply as you ease his head upon your shoulder, letting him wrap his arms around you so tightly he’s afraid you might break as he keeps you as close as possible. “As long as you need me to,” you assure him, your lips brushing against his ear as you continue to comfort him. “I’m here—I won’t leave, just as I promised you before.”

Din’s body shakes in his effort to keep his emotions at bay, only letting the tears fall silently into your shoulder as he buries his face there. Something about the trembling he does within his suit of beskar makes him feel more human again. He found it easy to lose himself in the things he swore himself to rather than the values he’s taken to heart—the one he’s given to you. He just needed you to hand that heart back to him again to remind him that it’s still there, still beating just as lively as ever for his people, his family,  _ himself _ .

You only make Din lift his head from your shoulder to meet his gaze with concern, and he appreciates the comfort—as doubtful as he is about deserving it. Your hands try to wipe away the tear-stains as you search his gaze, and it’s all Din can do to not grasp desperately onto your wrists and keep you there as long as he can. “How long have you been standing here?”

Din’s gaze falls to the place where his hands still grip your waist, unable to face you as he answers. “Ever since I left you and found the Frogs.”

“Din,” you breathe, your voice full of pity yet chastisement as you look around the room. “You need to rest, my love.”

Your endearment nearly makes Din want to crumble into your arms again, his relief upon hearing you refer to him as such overwhelming him. For hours, now, a large part of him was afraid he’d never get to hear you call him such a thing again. Din doesn’t try to fight you as you drag a nearby chair away from its table, easing him down into it and standing with your knees knocked against his. His hands, still gloved, are quick to ease you down with him, keeping your chest pressed close to his as he holds steady to your waist. Your hands hold his face again, pressing his forehead to yours as his eyes fall closed again.

“Your people and your history are unique, Din,” you start to tell him, your voice as soft as the fingers you run through his disheveled hair. “You’re united in your passion for your ancestors and your customs even if you practice things differently and swear yourselves to different Creeds. It doesn’t make any one of you less of a Mandalorian.”

Din looks into your gaze to try to find some sign that you’re just saying these things to make him feel better—but he can see your honesty. It’s as pure as the kiss you press to his nose once you see the way he’s so full of doubt, your attempt to bring warmth to his chest before you go on.

“But like I said before, your status as a Mandalorian doesn’t define you. You’re a warrior. You’re a leader. You’re a husband.” You start to smile as your gaze looks to the wall that separates the two of you from the third of your clan. “You’re a  _ father _ .”

Din feels his eyes starting to brim with tears again at the last title. Being called a “father” is his highest honor, the passion in life he hadn’t realized he wanted so badly until the little green foundling was in his arms. He’d always looked up to his father even before he’d lost him and thus he wanted to model himself after him. He knows that you know this. He knows that you wouldn’t say such a thing if you didn’t mean it.

You look back to him with a gaze that’s sparkling and full of admiration, amusement, and affection. “I’m not offended to know that you’re his favorite,” you say, chuckling as you even get Din to do the same. “I don’t blame him. You’ve been there for him whenever he’s needed you the most—and I can say the same thing.” You press a kiss over each one of his cheeks, and Din knows you’re trying to cover the tear-stains with your love. “You need to let us be there for you, too, Din. Don’t hide from us, from  _ me _ .”

“I won’t,” Din chokes the words out, his rasp still broken as he tries to show you as much honesty as possible with his gaze. “I… I promise I won’t hide from you anymore. I’m sorry.”

You simply start to smile as you brush your thumbs over the skin beneath his eyes. “Promise me one more thing.”

“Anything.”

Din’s heart shatters more than before when he sees your own gaze beginning to fill with tears, though you keep your voice strong as you caress his jaw. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper, and Din knows you’re letting your own desperation show in the same way he’d done for you just days before. “I promised not to leave you, but I—I need to know that you won’t leave  _ me _ , either. I knew you leaving me on that boat was temporary, but I just… I need the security, Din. I need to hear you say it. I lost my whole family and my home just as you did, and I need to know I won’t lose those things again.”

There are so many different ways Din wishes he could make himself suffer for what he did to you by leaving you on that boat, but he decides that having to hear you beg like this is quite possibly the worst one of all. He keeps one hand on your waist and brings the other to your cheek, letting the leather kiss your skin as he brushes away a tear that’s fallen from your eye. “I  _ promise _ ,” Din begins, his voice as firm as he can possibly make it, “I will never,  _ ever  _ leave you again,  _ riduur _ .  _ Ori’haat _ .” Din’s hand moves to the back of your neck as he gently eases you even closer to him. “I swear it upon my own mother and father.”

“Din,” you breathe, your lips nearly touching his own with how close you’ve both come to each other. “You don’t have to—.”

“I mean it, _cyar’ika_ ,” Din goes on, needing you to understand his severity and honesty. “I won’t leave you, not until the day I meet the Maker.”

Both your gazes have started to fall upon the other’s lips, your chests nearly beginning to heave with your need to show rather than tell the feelings left unspoken but certainly shared between you. Din’s afraid he might suffocate if he can’t confirm his words soon. “ _ Riduur _ ,” you say, your voice so hushed that Din wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wasn’t already so close. “ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum _ .”

Din’s heart leaps from his chest to his throat at your words—as yet again, you’ve made his language sound like the most beautiful thing in the galaxy, despite the fact he’s heard so many people speak it before. He gravitates even more to you in his awe of your beauty, kindness, and pure heart, wishing to pour these praises more upon your lips as he begins to place them there. “ _ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, rid’ika. Par an ca’nara _ .”  _ For all time. _

Finally, with a move that resolves any ache Din’s had left in his body, Din’s mouth meets your own for a kiss so passionate and meaningful that it takes his breath away. It’s not like the water that clogged his lungs and burned his throat—no, this is beautiful suffocation, filling every inch of Din’s lonely soul and making him feel alive again. He pulls you even closer, as close as you can get, needing you to know that he’ll never leave and reminding himself that he couldn’t ever leave you even if he tried.

In the height of both your emotions, you both make this promise just as well known as the one you had previously made to him, the flame of your passion only burning stronger the closer you try to get to each other. You move above Din yet with him in a slow and sensual manner with breaths of nothing but pure love that you pour onto each other’s lips, your hands gripping each other with a ferocity that seeks the grounding and stability you so easily find in each other. The reverence you both share is shown with these words and these actions, whispered promises of forever keeping you both at bay even as the intensity of your actions grows. With muffled admirations exclaimed in each other’s hair and skin, you’re reminded of the single heart, body, and soul you’ll always share, in the times when you feel it the most and especially in the times when you fear you’ve lost it all.

Your love is what’s completely taken Din out of his sorrowful daze, instead stepping into the roles you’ve identified for him as he makes you face him fully again. Your chest still rises and falls in a steady manner as you catch your breath, wisps of hair falling around your face as Din studies every part of your expression. “Are you okay?” Din questions with concern, finally able to recognize the voice that leaves him as his gloved thumb runs over your cheek. “I hope—that… didn’t make your illness any worse.”

You laugh softly, nodding as you cover his hand with one of yours. “Yes, Din, I’m all right,” you assure him, “and I’m glad to see that you are, too.”

Din smiles, a genuine one this time, as he leans forward to press gentle kisses along the scar that runs over your face—yet another sign of your strength. “Only because of you.” Din will never accredit himself as he pulls away to face you again, smiling more at the sight of you returning the gesture.

You’re gentle as you start to hold his face between his hands, and Din wonders why you’ve started to look concerned again until you speak. “If you’re ready, then, we need to talk with the other Mandalorians.”

Din nods, pleased with the way the pit in his stomach has disappeared. “I’m ready.”

You smile wider as you press a kiss to his forehead. “Then let’s go get our son.”

Din helps you to ease your way off of him before he stands, letting you be the one to take his helmet and place it back on his head as he no longer looks through the filter of what’s on his helmet, but rather through the filter of the love and care you’ve just shown him. When Din takes your hand and then takes his son into his arms, he can see himself filling in the roles you’ve just told him about: the leader, the husband, the  _ father _ .

And he has a feeling the warrior within him will be awakened again very soon.


	33. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess help Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls with a mission in exchange for information about a Jedi.

Din’s gloved hand is tight in yours all the way to the mess hall of the inn, though you couldn’t be more grateful to feel his touch. You’d been afraid after he left you on the boat that Din was going to try to drift away from you, thanks to his own personal trauma and struggles, but instead he’d listened to you—and made the promise you needed to hear. If his words hadn’t proved his honesty, his actions certainly did, still leaving you slightly weak in the knees as you continue ahead.

“Are you sure you’re all right, _cyar’ika?_ ” Din questions with true concern, giving your hand a squeeze to make you look over at him. His helmet’s tilted at you in a curious manner. “You seem a little… _unsteady_.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, squeezing his hand back as you shake your head. “I’m _fine_ , Djarin. I don’t think this should surprise you anymore.”

Din chuckles at that. “Good point, Djarin.” He looks ahead for a moment as he releases a deep sigh. “I just… I want you to know that I really meant it, _rid’ika_ .” His modulated rasp is tightening up again, tugging at your heartstrings as you wrap your free hand around his arm. “I’m very sorry, and I—I do love you, _very_ much, more than I can say, and I care about you so much that it’s dangerous sometimes, and I… I regret—.”

“Din.” You say his name in a soft yet stern manner, stopping in your tracks to make him do the same and face you. The baby coos in a confused manner in Din’s free arm, looking up at his father as if he senses his distress. “It’s _okay_. I think you demonstrated all of that to me quite clearly.” You laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, relieved when Din does the same. “What you need to focus on now is hearing what Bo-Katan has to say, all right?”

Din nods, letting his helmet fall against your forehead in a quick movement before he starts to lead the way ahead again. You bite back your smile, joyful to see Din’s focus completely shift to the conversation ahead as you both walk through the doorway of the mess hall.

Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls are still sitting at the table where you’d left them, each of them nursing a drink as Koska also starts to dig into a bowl of some kind of seafood. You join them just to see their surprised expressions, as if they hadn’t expected you to be able to bring Din back to them at all. Din sits next to Bo-Katan as you sit on his other side, the baby remaining on your lap as Axe slides you a drink.

“Welcome back,” Bo-Katan greets you, also nodding to Din. He returns the gesture, one of his gloved hands falling upon your thigh as the other tightens into a fist on the tabletop. You place a hand over his underneath the table, attempting to keep him at bay with whatever happens next. “I think you both might like to hear why we’re here.” Both you and Din nod as you draw a sip of your drink, making sure it stays out of the baby’s curious grasp as she goes on. “Trask is a black market port. They’re staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet.” She pauses, looking around the table before she looks to Din with notable determination. “We’re seizing those weapons and using them to retake our home world.”

Axe nods slowly beside you. The baby coos curiously in your lap, and you gently shush him as your free hand temporarily moves from your drink to his head to give it a gentle pat.

“Once we’ve done that,” Bo-Katan continues, “we’ll seat a new Mandalore on the throne.”

“That planet is cursed,” Din insists. You run your thumb over the back of his hand, silently warning him to just hear her out. “Anyone who goes there dies.” Din looks around the table as if he’s seeking confirmation, and you know he won’t find it. “Once the Empire knew they couldn’t control it, they made sure no one else could, either.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Bo-Katan warns Din, earning his full attention again. “Our enemies want to separate us. But Mandalorians _are_ stronger together.”

Din releases a soft sigh, low enough for only you to catch it. He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze that you return, sensing him struggling with what she’s said as he attempts to change the subject. “That’s not part of my plan.” He gestures with his helmet to the baby in your lap. “We’ve been quested with returning this child to the Jedi.”

Bo-Katan takes a good look at the baby, whose ears start to fall in a shy manner as he tucks his chin into his chest. You pet his head again, attempting to ease him until her gaze lifts again to meet Din’s visor. “What do you know of the Jedi?” she asks, her tone calculated as she lifts her brow.

“Nothing,” Din answers honestly. “I was hoping you would help me by Creed.”

There’s a contemplative pause as Bo-Katan starts to look at her Nite Owls. You hear the baby coo in your arms, but this time it’s from hunger as he watches Koska slurp some of her food. You give one of his little hands a squeeze, a gentle way to tell him no as his ears fall once again on his head. Bo-Katan shares a glance with Axe before she looks back to Din, a thoughtful light appearing in her eye. “I can lead you to one of their kind,” Bo-Katan finally tells him. Your heart starts to race at the idea of finally getting good information—but the tone of Bo-Katan’s voice keeps you from celebrating too much. “But first, we need your help on our mission.”

You hold back a sigh, your shoulders nearly deflating at her words. _Of course_. Information never comes easy in the Outer Rim. There’s always a price—even if you have the right connections. “Mission?” Din echos, tilting his helmet in a curious manner.

Bo-Katan just raises her brow, looking around the table before she starts to stand. “It’d be best to explain in the port,” she insists. Din also rises beside you, his hand leaving your thigh as he does so. You follow, keeping the baby tucked into your arm as he coos in curiosity. “Do you have a ship?”

“Yes,” Din confirms with a nod, “but it’s not, uh… functioning right now.”

“That’s fine,” Bo-Katan assures him. “We just need something to stand on.”

You furrow your brow, sharing a confused glance with Din before you follow her and the Nite Owls. Din directs them to the _Crest_ , watching as they use their jetpacks to fly onto the top of it. Din holds you tight, taking you and the baby up with him as he does the same. Koska’s already made herself comfortable by taking a seat beside the transparisteel of the cockpit, with Axe kneeling above her as Bo-Katan stands next to Din. He keeps you just in front of him, his hand remaining over your lower back until you’re steadily set in place. Once you’re all settled, Bo-Katan continues with her plan.

“You see that Imperial Gozanti freighter?” she questions, nodding towards something in the distance. You and Din both view it, nodding to confirm her words. “It’s being loaded with weapons as we speak. According to the port’s manifest, it’s scheduled to depart at first light.”

You can suddenly sense the heaviness of your eyelids at her proposition, especially as you watch the pink hints of dawn peeking around the edges of the freighter. You start to regret not seeking rest with Din before as you pursued other things and promises first. “So, we stow away?” Din asks, keeping a hand upon his belt as he looks to Bo-Katan for confirmation.

“We’ve been hitting ‘em pretty hard,” Koska informs him, taking a quick glance back at him before looking into the distance again. “They scan for lifeforms as a precaution before pushing back.”

“If you wanna do this with five,” Din begins, “you’re gonna need the element of surprise.”

Bo-Katan wrinkles her brow as she looks at Din. “Five?” she repeats. “No. We only need four.”

Immediately, you look completely back at Bo-Katan, nearly about to challenge her when Din beats you to the punch. “ _No_. We’re gonna have five.”

Bo-Katan looks between you and Din. She takes a hesitant breath. “But, she doesn’t have a—.”

“She’s just as much a Mandalorian as myself,” Din insists, his tone leaving no room for debate as you lift your chin to reassert his claims. “She has everything she needs—and she’s _coming_.”

Bo-Katan looks fully to you, and you decide to assure her of your capabilities yourself. “After what happened to Arilia, I began to train in self-defense,” you inform her. “I survived on my own long before I met him.” You gesture with your head to Din. “I’m not sure if you saw that on the boat, but I thought I made it pretty damn clear.”

Bo-Katan releases a soft breath, nodding as she looks back to the freighter. “All right, then. The element of surprise is exactly what we’ll use.” She pauses before going on. “The freighter will maintain trawling speed while inside the shipping lanes and then ascend into orbit. We’ll jet up when they’re cruising at low speed in atmosphere. The tower won’t allow them to climb until they’ve left the port’s airspace.”

Din tilts his helmet at her. “Troopers?”

“A squad at most.” She doesn’t look away from the freighter in the distance.

“And they couldn’t hit the side of a bantha,” Axe adds without looking back at Din.

Din nods, looking at you and resting a gentle hand upon your shoulder. You turn your head around to fully face him. “Does that sound all right, _riduur?_ ” he questions lowly, as if he only intends for you to hear his words. You can tell he’s still concerned about your illness and any other lasting effects of your earlier actions, making you smile a bit as you nod. Din returns the gesture, letting his hand fall from your shoulder as he goes on. “We should bring the baby somewhere safe.”

You raise an eyebrow. “The Frogs?” you suggest.

“If they’ll have him again.” Din takes the baby gently from your arms. “I’ll drop him off—and make sure he knows how he needs to behave. I’ll be right back.”

You nod, waving goodbye to the baby as he looks up at Din with confusion. Din jets off towards the inn, leaving you with Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls again as the former looks over at you curiously. “So, you trained after the Arilian tragedy?” Bo-Katan asks.

“Yes, for quite a while,” you inform her. “I did most of my training on Tatooine.”

“Tatooine? Seems like an… interesting place to train.”

“I had to flee there after what happened on Alderaan,” you tell Bo-Katan, wishing more than ever you had Din’s hand to hold for reassurance as you tell your story. “My parents were there when the Death Star targeted it. I was forced towards Tatooine before they were able to get Arilia. They wanted to take me somewhere I wouldn’t be found. I lasted there for a little while before the Imps arrived, and then I traveled place-to-place to protect and train others.”

Bo-Katan nods in an impressed manner, looking back out at the freighter. “I can see why he calls you a Mandalorian, then.” There’s a hint of fondness in her voice as she goes on. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from an Arilian.”

You know she’s hinting at the strength and wisdom of your parents, making your chest ache for a moment yet also swell with pride as you simply smile and nod. The Nite Owls make their way off the top of the _Crest_ , helping you as well. Your feet soon touch the ground as the four of you never take your eyes off the freighter, waiting for the full light of dawn to appear like it’s a ticking time bomb. Din reappears in the midst of your waiting, standing beside you as you look over at him. He tilts his helmet at you curiously, but you speak before he has a chance to.

“How is he?” you ask with the tone of a concerned mother, your hands fidgeting almost nervously at your sides as you think of the little one. “Is he sad?”

“I think he’s going to be well-entertained,” Din assures you with a gentle chuckle. “He was already drawn right to the canister when I handed him over to the Frogs.” Din leans closer to you, lowering his voice as he goes on. “You seem… nervous. Did something happen while I was away?”

“No! No.” You sigh, shaking your head as you try to find the words. “I just—the little one, I… I don’t know, I’ve been feeling more protective over him than usual lately.”

You can almost sense Din’s smile as he runs a hand along your lower back. “That’s just you becoming more of a mother, _cyar’ika_.” Din’s helmet then looks back in the direction from where he came. “We both care about him very much.”

“It’s gonna be really hard to give him up, _riduur_.”

Din doesn’t respond to your words right away. Instead, he takes a breath, one that’s somehow light through his modulator yet heavy with meaning as he looks back to you. “We have to do what’s best for him, _rid’ika_.” You don’t miss the way his voice breaks, especially as he looks ahead again to avoid your gaze. “That’s why we’re doing this mission.”

You can tell this is Din’s way of ending the conversation for now, and you know he’s justified in doing so. This is a discussion you’ll need to have later, when you’re not waiting to infiltrate an Imperial vessel with three other Mandalorians. You’ll both need to have enough time and space to wear your hearts on your sleeve, and now isn’t the time for that.

Suddenly, you notice the freighter’s engines starting to run in the distance. Bo-Katan looks around the group, making sure everyone’s ready before she starts to take off. The other two follow, and Din wraps his arms securely around your waist from behind before he does the same. Your hands grip his as you fly over the water. You close your eyes and try not to look down, fearing that your stomach will yet again give way at the thought of hovering over the endless sea.

You can tell that Din’s already noticed your struggle, his hands tightening even more around you as he follows the group towards the freighter. “You okay, _cyar’ika?_ ” Din asks, raising his voice over the rushing wind.

“For now!” you exclaim back to him. “But I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me!”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve thought of your stomach before!” Din’s apology is sincere in a way that makes you smile. You shake your head and give his hands a squeeze.

“It’s _fine_ , _riduur!_ Just don’t drop me, please!”

Din even chuckles at that, bringing the two of you closer to the group as you close in on the freighter. You fly above it to avoid gaining the attention of the stormtroopers who wait on the side, hovering there as Axe and Bo-Katan make their moves to dive in and start taking out the troopers. Din lands with you once they’ve taken out two of them—but not before the third sends out the alert. “Pirates!” they exclaim through the comms, just before a punch from Bo-Katan knocks them back and Koska swoops in to disarm him and fly him into the air.

You exchange a glance with Din, watching him tilt his helmet slightly at you. “I’m not sure they needed our help,” you murmur, causing him to huff in an amused manner as Axe manipulates the controls to get the doors open. You and Din both draw your blasters as Bo-Katan unsheathes a blade on her vambrace, nodding at all three of you before she enters. You can hear the sounds of her fight, soon being met with dead silence as you follow Axe and Koska—who’s just landed back beside her companion—into the freighter. The three of them walk ahead in coordinated strides, leaving you and Din behind to share a glance.

“I guess we’re taking up the rear,” Din mutters, making you snort as you both follow after them.

You don’t make it far down the hallway before a group of stormtroopers arrives from the elevator. You curse to yourself, pressing yourself against the wall behind one of the ridges along with Din. You both manage to steal a few shots at the troopers from around the ridge before Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls make a move to step out from the wall. You and Din try to follow, blasting from behind them as the stormtroopers easily start to fall. The group plows through the rest in no time, leaving you all with a clear path as you turn the corner.

It’s a slaughter the entire way down. You’re sure you’ve never had it so easy as the five of you make your way towards the cargo bay, hiding behind ridges in the walls as you need to while easily aiming at the stormtroopers who can’t seem to hit any of you in return. You are, however, forced to stop near an open doorway in the hall, leaning against the wall as Bo-Katan looks over at Din. She nods at something on his belt, and Din returns the gesture as he takes it in his gloved hand. He activates the metal sphere and lets it roll down the hallway.

“What is that?” you whisper-yell, looking at Din with slight concern.

“It fogs up the air,” Din informs you, and sure enough, the hallway soon begins to fill with smoke. “Just stay by me.”

You do as he says, letting him and the Nite Owls remain in charge of blasting as they use their heat sensors to target their victims. Your arm brushes up against Din’s free one, making him take your hand in his as he continues to guide you through the smoke. Once it starts to clear, you realize they’ve made quick work of the stormtroopers, and you give his hand a squeeze before you drop it and walk ahead with them into an elevator at the end of the hall.

Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls keep their weapons ready as they ascend their way to the cargo bay, so you and Din do the same. Your whole body’s still buzzing with adrenaline, ready to do whatever it takes to get these Imps out of your way. It’s never been easy to face the Imps after what they’ve done to you—killing your parents, destroying your home world, nearly taking your husband _and_ your child away from you—but it makes the revenge so much sweeter. Your fingers tighten around your blaster as you get closer and closer.

When the doors reopen, you can see the Imps waiting for you, already beginning to shoot in vain. Your group, still led by Bo-Katan, starts making quick work of them. You can soon hear an officer shouting orders about the doors, though you’re much too focused on blasting as many stormtroopers as possible to make out his words. The five of you make it to the cargo control area before all the doors lock you inside, causing your blasting to stop as you look to Bo-Katan first.

Wordlessly, she makes her way over to a control panel, working her gloved hands over them skilfully. You watch from Din’s side as she hesitates over a certain control, waiting for another moment before she pulls the lever. An alarm starts to blare as you hear a rush of wind come from the other side of the doors, and immediately you realize what she’s done. Bo-Katan gives it a few more seconds before she pushes the lever back to where it’d been before, also pressing a button to open the doors as she leads the way inside the cargo bay that’s now completely empty aside from the weapons Bo-Katan desires.

There’s a comlink on the floor that’s making noises as Axe and Koska go for the boxes of weapons, leaving you and Din to stand just a few paces away from the doorway as Bo-Katan slips off her helmet and kneels down to pick it up. You and Din share a look, with Din soon tilting his helmet at the heiress as she listens in.

“Do you copy?” the voice of an Imp questions, the sound alone nearly making you launch into action against an invisible enemy again as you force yourself to holster your blaster.

“ _I_ copy,” Bo-Katan answers, looking around the cargo bay with a malicious glint in her eyes. “Thanks for packing up all this gear so nicely. Imagine what a division of us can do when we get our hands on what’s inside these shiny little boxes.”

“If you think you’re going to escape with those weapons,” another Imp states fiercely, “you are sadly mistaken. Even if you’ve managed to jettison a few of those crates, we will comb the entire area until you are hunted down and killed.”

His threat—as empty as you know it probably is—sends a shiver down your spine, causing Din to look over at you with a gaze you know is full of concern. You quickly glance over at him through your peripherals, silently assuring him that you’re all right as Bo-Katan responds. “Oh, we’re not jettisoning _anything_ ,” she insists. You and Din both look sharply at her upon hearing that. A pit forms in your stomach even before she continues. “We’re taking the entire ship.”

“ _What?_ ” Din immediately seethes with disbelief, his modulated voice curt as he tilts his helmet at Bo-Katan.

“Put some tea on,” Bo-Katan continues, even as Din starts to walk towards her. You don’t stop him, instead looking nervously between him and the other two Nite Owls as they do just the same as you. “We’ll be up in a minute.” As soon as Bo-Katan finishes and sets down the comlink, she turns around to face Din, who’s closer to her than you know is comfortable.

“This is more than we signed up for,” Din demands, tilting his helmet menacingly as he stands over her.

“There is something I need,” Bo-Katan insists, appearing not to be affected by Din’s attempts at intimidation, “if I am to rule Mandalore. Something that was once _mine_. They know where it is, and soon, so will I.” She straightens out her own head as she faces Din directly. “Regardless, we are taking this ship for the battles ahead.”

“We got you your weapons,” Din snaps. “We have to return to _our_ ship _with_ the foundling.”

Bo-Katan simply remains silent for a moment, appearing to quietly challenge your _riduur_ before she responds. “If you want my help finding the Jedi, you _will_ help me take this ship.”

Your anger rises even more than before. You knew your parents weren’t fond of their diplomatic relations with Mandalore—and now, you realize why. You start to step towards them, but Din extends a hand behind him to tell you to stop, not looking away from Bo-Katan as he instead takes a step closer to her. “You’re changing the terms of the deal.”

Bo-Katan starts to smirk at Din as she raises her brow. “This is the Way,” she offers, her tone nearly mocking as she walks away and puts her helmet back on. You purposely brush against her shoulder when she passes you, turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes as you nearly lunge after her. It’s a gloved hand on your shoulder that stops you, spinning you around as the glowing helmet gives you a small shake.

“Don’t,” Din insists, his visor looking after Bo-Katan for a moment and then back to you. “We need the information.”

“But, Din,” you start to argue, “she—.”

“I know. But like I said before, we have to do what’s best for the little one.” He then gestures with his helmet to the Nite Owls who have all started to go ahead without you. “C’mon. We gotta’ go.” Din draws his blaster and so you do the same, biting your tongue for now as you both jog to catch up to them.

You’re making your way to the bridge when the ship suddenly forces all of you against the wall. You bite back a curse when your shoulder meets the hard metal, wishing you also had a layer of beskar to protect you from the impact as Bo-Katan looks back to all of you. “They’re taking the ship down!” she announces, causing your heart to leap into your throat. “Let’s move!” You all start to run ahead again, this time finding steadier legs as you keep your weapons ready. When you turn the corner, you’re met with a group of stormtroopers at the other end of the hall. “There’s the bridge,” Bo-Katan informs you. “Come on!”

That’s all you hear before a rapid series of blaster bolts drowns out anything else. You’re quick to press yourself against the wall beside Din, who keeps you closest to the safety of the hallway behind you as he stands beside Axe.

“How many troopers?” Bo-Katan questions, raising her voice to be heard above the blaster bolts.

“Six to ten,” Axe answers. “Two with heavy repeating blasters.”

You hold a breath. The firepower’s much too strong; even if it’s not accurate, it’ll take any one of you out before you can even have a chance at retaliating, _especially_ without armor.

“We’re losing altitude fast,” Koska informs the group, checking her vambrace as the ship continues downwards. “We need to move _now_.”

“They have too much firepower!” Axe insists.

You watch as Din’s helmet notably peers over the ridge, making you furrow your brow as you try to think of what he’s planning. “Still dropping,” Koska’s voice is in the back of your mind as you observe Din. “Ten thousand.”

“We won’t make it to the bridge!”

“Nine thousand.”

Din looks from Koska towards the bridge again. Your heart starts to beat even more rapidly as you try to figure out what the hell he’s trying to do.

“Eight thousand.”

Din suddenly holsters his blaster and reaches for two charges on his belt. You speak past the sudden lump in your throat as you face him. “What’re you doing?” you question sharply, your concern evident no matter how much you try to hide it.

“Seven thousand.”

“Trust me,” Din remarks gruffly, pressing his thumbs into the charges to activate them as he turns his full body towards the bridge.

You shake your head, starting to reach a hand out for his shoulder. “ _Din_ —.”

“Cover me!” Din exclaims to the group, darting forward before you have a chance to grab him.

“ _Riduur!_ ” You call after him, tightening your hold on your blaster as you watch him run forward—and right into the line of fire. Your hand that’s now shaking tries to do as he’d said and cover him, but your eyes watch as Din’s body responds to each and every bolt he takes against the beskar, soon bringing him to the ground as he throws the charges out ahead of him. In just a few moments, the charges light up the bridge, causing Din to duck down further to the ground as you’re forced to pin yourself further behind the ridge.

As soon as the heat disappears, you dart forward, watching Din struggle to get off the ground—but still managing to do so. He stands before you can help him, taking his blaster from his holster again as he nearly trips forward. “Come on!” he exclaims gruffly, leading the way as the five of you run towards the bridge.

Din’s the first to enter, stumbling against the doorway for a moment as he quickly reaches forward and tosses the captain’s body from one of the piloting chairs. He hands him off to Bo-Katan, who pins him up against the wall with her blade as Din and Koska take over the controls. You and Axe remain in the hall, waiting to see if any other stormtroopers remain and attempt to make their way inside. There’s too much chaos for you to hear anything that’s been said, whether it’s Bo-Katan speaking or Din, but you do feel the ship turn upwards again after a few long moments, making you take a breath of relief.

Before you can even turn and walk inside the bridge, you hear a body hit the floor, and you look to see the captain laying dead.

“We have to go,” you hear Koska say, watching as she looks back at Bo-Katan. “He sent a distress signal.”

“Clear the atmosphere and prepare to jump,” Bo-Katan instructs as Din makes his way out of the chair, approaching where you wait for him just outside. He stops when Bo-Katan speaks to him. “Are you sure you won’t join us?”

“There’s something we need to do,” Din insists, keeping his voice gruff—and you know it’s simply to protect himself from the hurt Bo-Katan had previously given him.

“The offer stands if you change your mind,” Bo-Katan assures him.

“Where can we find the Jedi?” Din doesn’t entertain her previous words for a moment, instead choosing to focus on what he needs.

Bo-Katan sighs softly and takes off her helmet, facing Din with what you recognize as appreciation. “Take the foundling to the city of Calodan on the forest planet of Corvus. There, you will find Ahsoka Tano.” You furrow your brow. The name sounds oddly familiar, though you can’t place it. “Tell her you were sent by Bo-Katan. And thank you. Your bravery will not be forgotten.” She pauses, nearly smiling as she nods her head at Din. “This _is_ the Way.”

Din returns the gesture. “This is the Way.” His voice breaks slightly, though it’s only in a manner you can catch, making your heart twist in your chest as he turns and places his hand upon your lower back to guide you with him. Silently, he leads you both back out the way you came, opening the door that leads to the balcony.

“So,” you begin, “how do you plan on getting us—?”

Before you can finish, Din wraps his arms around you just like before, using his legs to clear the railing as he takes you both into a free fall. A yelp of surprise escapes you before you can stop it, making Din laugh as you float through the clouds for a few minutes.

“ _Din!_ ” you exclaim, trying hard not to laugh yourself. “I need a warning!”

“I’m sorry, _rid’ika_ ,” Din apologies sincerely, “but we’ve left the little one alone for long enough. We have to go home.”

You smile at Din pairing the _Crest_ with the word “home,” setting your hands over his as he activates his jetpack and brings you closer to your reunion with your child.

Though you know you’ll still have quite a few things to discuss with Din from the mission on the way to Corvus, you feel relief at the idea of finally finding one of your son’s kind—all while you continue to underestimate just how much of the quest is still left for all three of you.


	34. The Layover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess get some much-needed rest and time to talk about everything that lies ahead of them.

The  _ Razor Crest  _ is in the worst shape you’ve ever seen it when you get back to port, even with everything the Mon Calamari tried to do for it. You spend your time attempting to clean up the inside of the hull as Din manages to get your poor home out of the atmosphere, somehow even launching into hyperspace along the way. You’re surprised Din and the baby still haven’t returned after many minutes with the familiar hum of hyperspace filling the space, so when you finish your current task of reorganizing the boxes that have been strewn around the area, you ascend your way to the cockpit.

As soon as you enter, you see a whimpering baby in the arms of Din, who’s still fully suited as he rocks him in vain. You furrow your brow in concern, approaching the two of them with a tightened chest. “What’s wrong?” you question, your maternal instincts at an all-time high as the baby’s eyes glitter with tears he refuses to shed.

“Someone had an accident,” Din informs you, his modulated voice almost guilty as his visor remains fixed on the baby. He offers a gloved finger that the little one immediately takes between his hands, his tiny fingers gripping onto it for dear life as he releases a sad coo.

“What do you mean?” You don’t hide the concern from your tone.

Din takes a breath, as if he’s hesitant to disclose the information to you. You cross your arms, staring at him with expectation until he sighs and looks up at you. “He, uh… he was helping me with some wiring, when he—.”

“Din Djarin, I  _ know  _ you weren’t making our child play with wires that could easily electrocute him.” You cut him off with disbelief, raising your brow as Din’s helmet tilts at you in a guilty manner.

“ _ Rid’ika _ , I swear, he wanted to—.”

“Din!” Your exclamation is just as much full of slight amusement as it is chastisement. You gently take the baby from his arms, letting his little fingers close around the fabric of your shirt as you shake your head at your  _ riduur _ . “He might be powerful, but he’s just a  _ baby _ .”

“I know, I just…” Din trails off, and you watch as his armored shoulders start to fall forward just a bit, “he really wanted to help, and I… really wanted to make him happy.” His voice breaks on the last phrase, making your heart sink into your stomach as your gaze quickly shifts back to the baby. He’s already fast asleep in your arms, healed from whatever the wires had done. Now, the other member of your clan needs healing, so you look up at him with a sympathetic gaze.

“I’m gonna put the little one to bed,” you begin, your voice soft as you take a step closer to Din. “I want you to take off your armor so I can clean it for you and meet me down in the hull so I can make us some soup. Okay?”

Din nods, but before you have a chance to leave, one of his gloved hands takes a hold of your arm. You face him with a raised brow, his helmet soon meeting your forehead. Din’s silent for a moment, his free hand rising to your cheek as he brushes his thumb over the skin there. “Thank you.” The words are uttered so softly that they barely pass through his modulator, making you smile as you turn your face to kiss the palm of his gloved hand. You then step away, heading towards the ladder as you make your way down to the hull.

Once you’ve set the baby in his hammock within his own compartment, you set to work, digging through your supply of food as you get everything you need to heat up your soup. Though it’s not as hearty as you’d like it to be, at least you know it’s warm and substantial, enough to help Din make up for all the food he’s been missing out on lately thanks to his inability to remove his helmet. You’ve gotten two bowls poured by the time Din joins you in the hull, and thankfully, your stomach doesn’t seem to protest the smell of what you’ve placed in front of you.

Din sets his pile of beskar down and then sits beside you, letting you hand the bowl of soup to him as his brown eyes sparkle fondly at you. Your heart warms at the sight of them. “Thank you  _ again _ ,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din says, making you giggle as he draws the first hungry sip from his soup.

“You don’t need to thank me for doing what I’m meant to.” Your smile is evident through your tone as you also begin to eat your soup, letting the broth warm your empty stomach in the best of ways. Before Din has a chance to protest, you keep speaking, making sure you hold Din’s gaze as long as possible. “You seemed upset before,  _ riduur _ .”

That’s when you lose Din’s gaze, his eyes beginning to lose their sparkle as he focuses on the bowl in his hands. He doesn’t speak for a moment, instead visibly swallowing hard before he forces another sip of soup down his throat. “It’s… trivial,  _ rid’ika _ .” Din’s hands nervously fidget with the bowl as he speaks, his voice uncharacteristically low.

You frown, moving closer to him until your side brushes against his. “Nothing that bothers you is ‘trivial’ to me, Din.”

Din doesn’t speak, instead letting a hand leave his bowl as it reaches for one of yours. You immediately offer it to him, letting him lace his fingers with yours as he stares at your entwined hands. He sighs deeply, and you give his hand a squeeze as he speaks. “We’ve been trying to find the little one’s people for a while now. Our quest has always been to leave him with them. But now that we’ve finally found one of his own…” Din pauses, squeezing your hand back as he wills himself the strength to go on, “I’m not sure I’m ready to leave him.”

A strong wave of simultaneous sympathy and sadness washes over you at his words. You’ve been feeling the same kind of dread, but you know it must be worse for Din. He’s had the child for longer, even if it wasn’t  _ that  _ much longer, and they’ve developed a bond so deep that it’s hard for you to even imagine them ever separating. Still, you try to remain strong for Din, running your thumb over the back of his hand as you attempt to console him. “It’s okay to feel that way, Din. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it. You’ve both become very close. He’s very much like a son to you, as you’re like a father to him.”

You watch Din’s fingers drum against his cup of soup in an anxious manner as he contemplates your words for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is low, his gaze still unable to meet yours. “Do you think it’s been selfish of me,  _ cyar’ika _ , to have known that I wasn’t going to be able to keep him, yet to keep treating him as my son?”

“It’s not selfish.” Your words come quickly and firmly, rivaling the grip you take on his hand. “When you found the little one, you saw yourself in him. It was instant attachment. You just wanted to protect him the way you craved protection when all those things happened to you as a child—and that brought you even closer together. I think it’s beautiful, Din, the way you’ve two bonded. I mean it.”

Din’s gaze finally meets yours, and your heart constricts at the way he’s trying as hard as he can to keep his eyes dry. “Thank you.” He clears his throat, taking another sip of his soup before he says more. “I just don’t want to make this hard for him. If he’s so attached to me, to  _ us _ , he’ll think he’s being abandoned all over again.”

“But these are  _ his _ people, Din. He’ll know them. And I’m confident that little menace is very, very smart, even if he tries to convince us otherwise sometimes.”

Din chuckles at that, nodding as he gives your hand a squeeze. He sits in sweet silene for a few moments, his gaze searching yours. You start to raise your brow, briefly concerned by actions. It’s when he sets the soup down on the floor of the hull and raises his free hand to your face that you realize he’s simply lost himself in you for the countless time. Your chest warms as you start to smile, making Din smile as his fingertips gently brush over the side of your face. “You…” Din trails off, as if he can’t even bring his thoughts to words.

You giggle, raising your eyebrow in a teasing manner. “I…?”

Din shakes his head, his cheeks reddening slightly as he gives your hand another squeeze. “You know the effect you have on me  _ and _ the way I feel about you. Please,  _ cyar’ika _ , be merciful.”

You laugh at that, leaning forward to kiss him before you sit back where you were. “All is fair in—.”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Din scoffs playfully, watching as you finish off your soup. He sighs gently as he does the same, his thumb continuously brushing over the back of your hand as he glances around the hull. “Damn Mon Calamari. They don’t know  _ osik  _ about fixing a ship.”

You snort, setting your cup aside. “Yeah. Our poor  _ Crest’s  _ been through some things lately, hasn’t she?”

Din nods, twisting his lips as he keeps looking around. “Our home needs some repairs. I don’t think she can make it to Corvus like this.” He then looks back at you, a hint of a smile already on his lips before he continues. “I think we should take a pit stop somewhere we can trust.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

Din’s smile grows. “How about Nevarro?”

As soon as he says the planet’s name, your smile widens to a nearly impossible amount. “Nevarro?” Your repetition of Din’s words is breathless, and you can see Din’s eyes sparkle at the pure joy you radiate. “Do you mean it?”

Din shrugs, attempting to remain nonchalant. “They were always faithful to the  _ Crest  _ when I was working for the Guild.”

You can’t help releasing an excited squeal that makes Din laugh aloud. Cara had visited you both once on Sorgan after your marriage, telling you two about the plans for Nevarro and her new rank of marshal. You’ve missed her and Karga dearly ever since you left them on the planet, and the thought of getting to see them again is enough to have you smiling in such a way. “The baby’s gonna be  _ so _ —,” you pause, stuttering when a dull ache spreads across your stomach, “h-happy.”

Din notices this instantly, causing his joyful expression to drop as a concerned crease settles between his brows. “What is it,  _ cyar’ika? _ ”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. I think it’s just… a cramp. You know?”

Though he’s not fully convinced, Din nods at you. “Okay.” Gently, he drops your hand, positioning his on your waist as he eases you between his legs. With his back resting against a cargo box and yours resting against his chest, he sets his hands—large and warm—upon your stomach, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before he speaks again. “Does that help at all?”

You can feel your heart practically burst as you turn your chin over your shoulder to face him more directly. Din’s dark gaze is full of genuine care and concern, enough to make you want to melt away as you kiss him. “More than you know, Din.”

Din smiles at that, encouraging you to rest completely against him as he leans his chin upon your head. “Good.” He’s silent for a few moments, though you can feel the breath he holds within his chest. When he continues, his voice is as soft yet decisive as ever. “When we’re on Nevarro, we’re gonna have you see a doctor there, just to make sure everything’s all right. Is that okay?”

You nod, currently too overwhelmed by the warmth of your face against Din’s clothed chest to give a verbal answer. His thumbs are gently running over the cramped-up place on your body, and the motion’s too relaxing for you to be able to focus on anything else—that is, until a haunting thought comes to mind. Your eyes, which had been fluttering closed thanks to Din’s work, open wide as you speak your mind. “My love?”

“Yeah,  _ rid’ika? _ ”

“When you were getting hit by those blaster bolts earlier, did it hurt?”

Din shrugs. “Not as much as I imagined the slap you’d probably give me would’ve.”

You chuckle at that, clearing your throat right after to be serious again. “Din, I mean it.”

“It was… no, I’m fine,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

You lift your head from his chest, turning your body to face him more directly as an eyebrow quirks up. “Isn’t that what you said after you got hit with the MK-modified rifle bolt?” Din’s gaze already starts to prove his defeat as you release a soft breath. “Can we at least check, Din? Please?”

Din sighs, finally giving in with a nod. “Fine. But I’m sure everything’s all right.” You smile, grateful for his cooperation as you move further away from him. Din sits up from the box, crossing his arms and grabbing the hem of his shirt to pull it up over his head.

Instantly, you have to hold back a gasp at the plethora of dark blue, black, and purple spots that are littered all across his upper half. Din’s brow furrows at your concerned expression, his gaze watching you closely as you reach a gentle hand towards his chest. “Din…” you pause, stopping with your hand hovering over a large bruise as your gaze meets his, “you have bruises  _ everywhere _ .”

Din shrugs. “They’re just bruises.”

You scoff. “Just bruises? Din, look at this!” You gesture with your hand to the array of colored spots you’re seeing, clicking your tongue and shaking your head as you look back to him. “And you just let me lay against you like that? It must’ve hurt!”

“What can I say? I’m a tough guy.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, standing up as you search for the medpac. “Oh right, you’re Mr. Big and Bad Mandalorian. I always seem to forget that, don’t I?”

Din chuckles. “How dare you—.”

“—marry a Mandalorian. Yeah, I remember you saying that.” You kneel down in front of Din, taking out the bottle of zonidox cream and starting to lightly apply it to your fingers. “Wasn’t that right after I watched you get swallowed whole by a krayt dragon?”

Din’s silent for a moment at that, simply watching as you start to apply the zonidox to his bruises. He draws in a breath through gritted teeth, one of his hands instinctively wrapping around your wrist. “Ah,  _ cyar’ika _ , that’s cold.”

You furrow your brow and look up at him. “Does it hurt?”

“I think the cold is numbing the pain.”

You scoff playfully, continuing your movements of gentle circles. “You’re being dramatic,  _ riduur _ .”

Din releases your wrist, and you can feel his fond gaze on you while you work in silence. He keeps his arms at his sides to give you easier access, though you can sense his desire to hold you in some manner. It makes you bite back a smile as your fingers continue over his warm skin, enjoying the peace you both can share after so much constant action and chaos. You thought that life after being on the run would be calmer than before, but you’re nearly inclined to believe that it’s even crazier than before. You don’t mind, though. You know you’d go to the ends of the galaxy for both your boys.

When you finish, you release a soft breath, closing the zonidox and setting it inside the medpac. “You’re all set, my love. Once that settles in, you can wash up.”

Din snorts at that. “I’m not sure if you remember, but I think I got quite the bath on Trask.”

“That’s not funny,” you insist, trying to be serious as you playfully slap Din’s cheek. “You almost  _ drowned _ .”

Din laughs softly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  _ Ni ceta _ .”

You beam at him, coming alongside him as you sling one of his arms over your shoulders. You tuck yourself into his side, where Din openly accepts you and pulls you close. With your head resting upon your shoulder, you can feel the full exhaustion of the two days hit you, making your eyelids flutter as Din’s thumb runs over your arm.

“Sleep,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din commands you softly, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’ll set the course to Nevarro soon. You just need to rest.”

“Are you sure… you won’t need… my help?” You’re already drifting off, losing yourself in the mixture of Din’s comfort and his warmth.

“I’m sure. Sleep,  _ gedet’ye _ .”  _ Please. _

You oblige before you can argue, only able to conceive of the safety and security you feel in Din’s arms as sleep overtakes you. There’s a satisfied feeling within you knowing that you’re finally on track to taking the child where he belongs, and stopping somewhere reliable on the way—though you’re still completely unaware of how both those things will change you forever.


	35. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clan Djarin lands on Nevarro, leading both Din and the princess to make discoveries that will drastically change the terms of their quest.

The  _ Crest  _ is barely puttering along by the time the lava fields of Nevarro come into view. You sit in the cockpit with Din, the baby babbling happily on your lap as he looks through the transparisteel. You giggle softly at his enthusiasm, brushing a hand over one of his ears repetitively as he reaches a hand out. The other presses against your stomach, a new habit of his. You assume he can guess whatever’s been going on with you, and this is his best attempt at comforting you.

“Are you excited to see our friends again, little one?” you ask him in a soft voice, getting the baby to look at you as he coos loudly in response. You laugh, pressing a kiss to his wrinkly forehead as his eyes glow brighter. “Me too.”

“Hey,” Din starts to say, turning his helmet around in his chair to look at the two of you, “don’t have too much fun without me back there.”

“You hear that,  _ ad’ika? _ ” you question, sharing a gaze full of amusement with the baby. “Sounds like someone’s jealous.”

The baby snorts and looks over at his father, who also scoffs as he returns his attention to landing the rickety  _ Crest _ . The descent is bumpy, but Din manages to land just outside the city, right in the same place where you’d first met him. The thought makes your smile grow larger as you stand up with the baby in your arms. As Din stands up, though, you can tell he’s looking rather longingly at your son. You offer the baby to him and he eagerly takes him from you. The baby coos and nestles into his father’s shoulder, warming your chest as you lead the way down to the hull.

When Din opens the hatch, the ramp falters. He sighs, muttering a curse underneath his breath that makes you nudge his shoulder. His helmet turns to look at you, tilting in a questioning manner as you raise your brow at him. “Not in front of the little one,” you chastise him softly, making him chuckle and use his free hand to support your lower back as you continue forward on the broken ramp.

Your cheeks nearly hurt from your smile as you spot Cara and Karga already waiting for you just beyond the ship. Din lifts his hand from your back to instead take one of your hands, helping you to sit down on the edge of the ramp and jump down to the ground. Din follows right after, joining you at your side as you approach your friends.

“Looks like someone could use some repairs,” Karga calls out, a fond smile on his face. You chuckle and raise your brow as Din tilts his helmet to agree. They shake hands once the distance between you has been closed.

“How’s my credit around here?” Din questions playfully, offering the same handshake to Cara as Karga takes your hand and leaves a chaste kiss on the back of it.

“I think something could be arranged,” Karga answers, watching as you and Cara share a quick yet meaningful embrace. “Isn’t that right, Marshal?”

Cara looks down at the baby in Din’s arm and smiles, brushing her hand along his ear before she looks back up at Din. “I’m sure we can work somethin’ out,” Cara says with a chuckle.

“I’ll get my best people on it,” Karga assures Din, leaning back to call out to a few nearby mechanics. “Hey, fellas! Let’s fix this couple’s ship! I want it good as new.” He turns back to you, smiling a little more as he faces you directly. “So, Marshal Dune here told me you two officially tied the knot a while ago.” You share a glance with Din, unable to keep yourself from smiling as you nod and look back at Karga. “Well, congratulations. I can’t say I didn’t see that coming.” He pauses when the baby coos, looking down at him with a sparkling gaze. “And you, come here, little one!”

Karga laughs as he gently takes the baby from Din’s arm. You’re happy to see Din give him freely to his old friend, any past skepticism having been left behind as Karga now looks upon the child not unlike he’s his own family.

“Have they been taking good care of you, huh?” Karga asks the baby, looking pointedly at Din afterwards. “Have you been takin’ good care o’ him?” He nods towards you. “I know  _ she  _ has.” The baby then coos up at Karga, causing him to widen his eyes. “Yeah? Yeah! He said ‘yeah!’ Oh, yeah.”

Din tilts his helmet at Cara, who does the same back before the three of you continue after Karga and the baby. Your hand finds Din’s as you walk close together, looking upon the city that you once dreaded and now is full of life. There’s vibrant colors thrown all around, the market nearly bursting at the seams as you make your way through the main arch. You gaze upon it with awe, giving Din’s hand a squeeze before you look over at Cara.

“It’s  _ beautiful _ here,” you insist, still smiling as you meet her gaze.

“Yeah, it looks like you two have been busy,” Din adds, squeezing your hand back as he glances around for himself.

“I myself have been steeped in clerical work,” Karga responds, looking back at the three of you. “Marshal Dune here is to be thanked for cleaning up the town.”

Cara shrugs off the compliment, instead looking over at the two of you with slight concern. “Your ship’s not lookin’ too good,” she insists.

“We had a run-in with the New Republic,” Din answers, his tone nearly embarrassed as he swings his arm that’s holding yours. You smile, recognizing the shy gesture.

“They should leave the Outer Rim alone,” Karga mutters. “If the Empire couldn’t settle it, what makes them think they can?” Karga stops as he walks up the steps to a building, one that looks familiar though you can’t put your finger on it. “Here we are.” He starts to press a few buttons on the control panel, causing you to look over at Din. He’s stopped rather abruptly in his tracks, looking at the building without a tilt to his helmet.

“I’m surprised to see this place is still standing,” Din remarks, attempting a joke—though you can hear the strain in his voice.

That’s when you realize what it is: the cantina where Din almost died, and you had to leave him.

Your grip on his hand tightens as soon as you fall upon the realization, and your heart starts to ache at the way he squeezes it back. Still, you both watch as Karga and Cara head inside, Cara turning around to look at you both with an optimistic smile. “Just wait ‘til you see inside,” she says, turning back around and walking in.

You don’t follow just yet, instead looking up at Din as you bring your free hand to his cuirass. “Din,” you call for him lowly, watching as his visor turns to you, “are you okay with going inside?”

Din looks from you to the cantina for a moment, meeting your gaze again with a nod. “Yeah. I’ll be fine,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

Your brow furrows. “Are you sure?”

“I’m  _ certain. _ I’m… sure they’ve transformed this place into something great.”

You smile at his positivity, squeezing his hand one more time before you both finally follow Cara and Karga inside. When you enter, you can hear a protocol droid speaking about the geography of the galaxy, making your brow lift as you stand alongside your friends. You and Din seem to realize what it is at the same time as you observe the long stretches of desks filled with children.

“A school?” Din asks almost breathlessly, looking over at Cara with disbelief.

“Things have changed a lot around here,” Cara remarks, smiling over at the two of you.

“We’ll leave the little one here so we can talk business,” Karga says, starting to make his way across the room with the baby.

“Wait,” Din pleads, dropping your hand for a moment to walk forward. “Wherever we go, he goes.”

“Mando,  _ please _ ,” Karga insists, looking upon Din with a serious gaze. “Where we’re going, you don’t wanna take a child. Trust me.”

A pit forms in your stomach at that. You look at Cara, who returns your glance with a hint of darkness. You lean over to whisper to her. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll explain it all to you,” Cara assures you, also keeping her voice low as Din joins you back at your side. You wrap both your arms around his in an attempt to bring him comfort, looking at him just to see his visor staring ahead at the sight of Karga setting the baby in his own desk. “He’ll be fine here,” Cara speaks more loudly this time, looking over at Din as she gives him a nod. “You have my word.”

Din, knowing he can trust Cara’s word, visibly relaxes, still looking after the baby as he pulls you closer into his side. You brush your thumbs over the clothed part of his arm, knowing how deep his attachment to the baby runs—and vice versa. Leaving him anywhere that isn’t with you two or with a few people he knows he can trust is as dangerous as leaving him out in the open.

Karga walks back towards you, waving his arm as he heads for the doorway. “C’mon,” he directs, leading the way out. Cara follows, but Din lingers. You gently tug his arm, getting his visor to look at you again.

“He’ll be just fine,  _ riduur _ ,” you say with a gentle smile. “I promise.”

Din nods at you, taking a soft breath as he lets you guide him out of the school. You follow Karga and Cara through the town again, eventually heading inside yet another building with them. This one’s unrecognizable from your time spent on Nevarro before, appearing as some sort of administrative place as you walk through the door frame.

“There’s no registration on the ship,” a Mythrol is saying as he looks down at a datapad behind a desk, “but I’m pretty sure it belongs to…” He trails off when he looks up and sees Din entering at your side. There’s a fear in his eyes that’s nearly tangible, causing you to look at Din with confusion.

“I believe you two have met,” Karga says, confusing you even more as you look back to the Mythrol. A puff of mist appears from his gills, his mouth falling open as he stares upon your husband in shock. Your brow furrows now as you look at Din again, letting one of your arms fall from his as the other slips into his gloved hand.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Din says, nodding at the Mythrol.

“Right back at ya’,” the Mythrol responds, attempting to remain casual.

“Who’s this?” you ask Din, keeping your voice low. He doesn’t get a chance to answer you just yet.

“Mythrol here’s taken care of my books since he was a pollywog,” Karga explains. “But then he disappeared one day after a bit of ‘creative accounting.’”

“Magistrate Karga was generous enough to let me work off my debt,” Mythrol gushes, his voice wavering with his nerves as he speaks. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Three hundred and fifty years, but who’s counting?” Karga mutters, looking sharply at the Mythrol.

“Well, if he runs off on you again, let me know,” Din remarks, tilting his helmet in a threatening manner. Realization sets in for you.  _ This must’ve been a bounty he brought in. _

“Let me assure you, I do  _ not  _ wanna spend anymore time in carbonite,” Mythrol insists, chuckling a bit—but mostly with fear. “Still can’t see outta’ my left eye.”

“You froze him in  _ carbonite? _ ” you question, looking at Din with wide eyes.

“It was part of the job,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din insists, finally returning your look. “You’ve seen the freezer on the ship.”

“Yeah, but still!” you exclaim, letting your slight amusement show as you smile at him. Din shakes his head, trying to hold back his own chuckle.

“Can we talk business?” Cara interjects, walking over to a desk that’s behind you. 

“We’re only here for repairs,” Din states firmly, “and to see a doctor.”

Cara furrows her brow. “A doctor?” She looks between the two of you. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, really,” you respond, feeling slightly embarrassed as you give Din’s hand a squeeze. He returns one to you in comfort. “I was just feeling a little sick with everything that’s been going on. It’s more for peace of mind.”

Cara nods. “I see. Well, we’ll make sure you see the best we have.” You nod in gratitude, giving her a small smile.

“It’ll take a while, though, for the repairs and the appointment,” Karga adds, looking over at your husband with desperation. “And we could really use Mando’s help.”

“Help how?” Din questions. “I was planning on going with her.”

Cara releases a breath and leans forward, lighting up a hologram on the table. “This is Nevarro,” she says, gesturing to the figures in the blue and green light. “We’re here. This entire area’s a green zone. Completely safe.” She then taps to zoom in to another area, which is lined with red light. “But over on this side is the problem.”

“It’s an old Imperial base,” Karga explains.

“It’s where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon,” Cara adds.

“This base has been here since the Imperial expansion,” Karga continues. “It’s got a skeleton crew, but for some reason, it hasn’t been abandoned. There’s a lot o’ heavy weaponry in that place the black market would  _ love  _ to dismantle and get their hands on.”

“And you wanna mop up the last of the Imperial force before they do,” Din nearly scoffs.

“Mando, I just want them off my planet,” Karga asserts. “If we could take out that one last base, Nevarro would be completely safe. We could be a trade anchor for the entire sector.”

“And the planet would finally be free,” Cara finishes.

Din remains silent for a few moments, looking between your companions before he releases a breath. “Let us talk it over for a minute,” he finally answers, gesturing to you with his helmet.

“Sure,” Cara agrees, nodding with a soft smile. You return the look, letting Din lead you to just outside the building as he takes both your hands in his.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re okay with going alone?” Din asks, his modulated voice as soft as you’re used to hearing it whenever it’s just the two of you.

“I’ll be fine on my own, Din,” you assure him just as softly, giving his hands a squeeze. “I promise.”

Din’s visor still looks you up and down, his helmet tilting a bit as he brings you even closer to him. “If you want me there with you,  _ cyar’ika _ , I  _ will  _ be. Karga and Cara can handle this on their own.”

“No, Din, I’ll be  _ fine _ ,” you nearly laugh. “You go and help them. I’ll stay here and once I’m done with the appointment, I’ll stay with the baby.”

Din sighs, nodding at you. “Okay.” He then presses his helmet to your forehead, drawing your hands closer to his cuirass. “I’m sure everything will be all right,  _ ner kar’ta _ .”

“You better not pull a krayt dragon on me this time,  _ Mando _ ,” you tease, freeing one hand to cup the ridge of his helmet.

“No crazy stunts this time around,  _ cyare _ . Not when you’re not there to see them.”

You scoff playfully. “Show-off.”

Din chuckles, using one of his hands to brush a few wisps of hair out of your face. “I love you,  _ riduur _ .”

You smile at his affectionate words. “I love you too, Din. Be safe, all right?”

Din nods. “I promise I will this time.” You believe his words, walking with him back inside as he approaches Karga and Cara with a sigh. “What are we looking at?”

They go on to brief him about their entire plan, while you simply stand aside and listen to it. Nothing sounds incredibly dangerous, which takes even more of the stress off you. Still, you wish you could go along, but you know you need to follow along with what you and Din agreed upon and see a doctor. Staying sick while also staying on the  _ Crest  _ is good for no one, especially with Corvus in such close reach.

Once they’ve finished, Cara pulls you aside, letting you say goodbye to your husband and other companions before she guides you to the medcenter. You fill her in on what’s going on, and she listens attentively with concern as she walks alongside you. It’s only when you head inside that you notice her eyes glowing with a different kind of light, her hand gently patting your shoulder as she tilts her head at you.

“Whatever you need, we’ll be here for you,” Cara says gently. “All right?” You nod, confused by what she means but unable to question her as she turns to a medical droid who’s standing at a desk in the front. “Hey, MB-03, I need you to run some tests on our guest here. Make sure she’s as comfortable as can be.”

“It would be my pleasure, Marshal Dune,” MB-03 remarks, the light blue of their metallic build glinting in the light as they walk out from around the desk. “I’ll take care of her myself.”

“We’ll be back soon,” Cara assures you, giving you a nod and a smile before she leaves. You sigh, nervously wrapping your arms around yourself as you follow MB-03 to a room towards the back. You would never tell Din, but you’ve never been fond of medical facilities, due to an accident you’d had when you were younger. You didn’t want to hold him back, though, and you knew you could handle this on your own. Your companions needed his help.

“Please, come in,” MB-03 requests once she’s opened the sliding door of a room down the hall. You nod, silently obeying as you walk into the all-white room. There’s a table in the middle where you can lay down, scanning technologies filling the space around it along with a few screens. You look to the droid for guidance, who points you towards the table. “You can lay down right there.”

You make your way over to the table, sitting atop it and laying down as she’s instructed. MB-03 stands over you for a moment, causing your fingers to fiddle with each other anxiously as you stare up at her glowing eyes.  _ I can see why Din still gets freaked out by droids sometimes. _

“Where have you been feeling discomfort?” MB-03 asks, pulling up a hologram on their arm.

“My stomach,” you inform the droid. “I don’t think it’s anything, really, I just… got sick a few times after eating, once when our ship crashed and the other time on a boat. And I cramped up a few times last night.”

The droid presses a few buttons on their arm. She says nothing for the moment, making you swallow hard before she speaks. “Is that all?” When you nod, she lets the hologram fade, instead making her way over to one of the scanners. “We’ll focus the scan on that area, then. All you need to do is stay still for a while. The scan takes some time in order to be extra thorough.”

You nod again, watching as she carries the scanner to hover over you. It shines with a green light that spans from the tops of your thighs to the middle of your chest, making sure the entire abdominal area is well-covered. Your hands ball up into fists at your sides, and you close your eyes as you think of happy things.

The first thing to come to mind is Din’s smile. You nearly laugh yourself at the memory of his laughter, especially the night he tried to teach you Tusken. It’s rare for him to be so light-hearted in the midst of everything you’re going through with the child, and getting to see him have those moments means the entire galaxy and more to you.

Then, the baby comes to mind. You beam just at the thought of his soft coos, especially when he’s snuck his way into your shared compartment and he’s released soft snores between your and Din’s chests. Like you talked about with Din the night before, he feels  _ so  _ much like a son to you, and you never expected to be able to fit into the motherly role so easily—so easily that you’ll find it hard to have to snap out of it when you bring him to the Jedi on Corvus.

Finally, you think of your family together. All the moments you got to share not just during your relaxation on Sorgan, but also in the cramped space of the  _ Crest _ , always staying close and keeping each other safe. You never knew how much you wanted a family until you had one again. You’ve been running for so many years on your own, trying to find a new purpose after the destruction of your home. Now, you’ve come to find a brand new home of your own, its foundation resting in the man to whom you’ve vowed yourself and the child you both protect.

It makes your eyes water as you try to blink the joyful tears away, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You close your eyes in a further attempt to relax, eventually letting the white light exchange for black as you seek the rest you’ve been missing out on too much over the last few days.

When you come to again, you realize a pillow’s been placed under your head and a warm blanket’s been thrown over you. You sit up slowly, looking around as you try to figure out how long you’ve been asleep. MB-03’s standing at one of the screens, and she turns around as she hears your rustling.

“Ah, you’re awake,” she greets, walking over to a floating table where she’s placed a small bite to eat and a cup of water. “Here.”

“How long was I out for?” you question, furrowing your brow as you glance at the droid.

“Only an hour,” MB-03 answers. “Please, eat. Your scan’s been complete and the results are almost ready.”

You do as she says, taking cautious bites of the food she’s provided you with and separating them with sips of water. After you swallow a few, you look at the droid with confusion. “You know, I thought all this technology might be a little bit faster.”

“This is our highest quality scan,” MB-03 informs you. “It takes longer to process in order to catch everything it sees.”

You simply nod at her words, finishing off your food and gulping down the rest of your water. With a sigh, you shift on the table so that your legs are swinging off the side of it, your head tilting to the side once you see a green light flash on MB-03’s screen. She swipes her finger across the hologram, noting a few things before she powers down the screen. The droid turns to you and comes a few steps closer.

“It seems that congratulations are in order,” MB-03 tells you.

You smile in a relieved manner at her. “Does that nothing’s wrong with me?”

“No,” the droid responds. “You are with child.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Actually, I’m not currently with the…” you trail off, thinking over her words for a moment until your eyes go so wide you’re half-afraid they’ll jump right out of your head. Suddenly, you connect everything together—every symptom, every action, every  _ feeling _ . You look at the droid with your jaw practically on the floor. “I’m… I’m pregnant?”

“Yes,” MB-03 confirms. You let out a struggled breath in disbelief, your gaze falling to your hands on your lap that have started to shake. “Again, congratulations.”

You shake your head a few times, starting to smile to yourself as the truth sets in. Your clan will soon be growing to four, and all of your and Din’s fears about no longer being parents can be put to rest. It’s much sooner than you expected and not ideal for your life in the  _ Crest _ , but you can’t stop to think about that right now. Instead, you keep thinking about the smile that you love so much lighting up the room the moment you share the news with him, telling him of the life you’ve created together and will get to raise together—the life to which you’ll be able to give everything you and Din have always wanted: a family, a home, and  _ security _ .

A bubbling laugh escapes you as you fold your hands over your mouth, already watching the room blur around you as tears of shared joy and disbelief fill your eyes. MB-03 comes closer, this time offering a tissue to you. “I assume you weren’t aware of this.”

You take it from her and shake your head, blotting your eyes as your shaking hand balls the material into your fist. “No, I… we had no idea.”

MB-03 turns around to start resettling the room. “You’re about four weeks along.”

You nearly gasp as you stare at the droid. “ _ Four weeks? _ ” You think back and try to pinpoint the origin. You assume it must’ve been one of your last nights on Sorgan before you returned to your quest within the  _ Crest _ . “I…  _ wow _ .” You’re still in shock, laughing a few times as you slide off the table. “Well, uh—thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure,” MB-03 insists, guiding you out of the room and back to the front of the medcenter. You start to make your way out on your own, everything around you feeling like it’s going in slow motion as you try to process what you’ve just been told. A soft smile’s been permanently etched on your features as your hands rest subconsciously over your stomach, tears of joy still collecting in your eyes as you walk out into the Nevarro town.

When you look down at your stomach, you realize what the child’s been doing all along. With his powers, he could probably sense the growing life in you—and he’s been trying to tell you  _ and _ express his happiness about it. The thought only makes you tear up more, causing you to laugh out a joyful sob that you try to keep suppressed for the sake of not making a fool of yourself in public.

You plan on telling Din as soon as possible, wanting him to share this joy with you, but it’s him who finds you first. You hear him before you see him, looking up when the roaring of his Rising Phoenix comes into hearing. You smile wide when he lands, but the urgent way he rushes over to you—along with the absence of Karga and Cara—causes it to falter.

“Thank the Maker,” Din breathes when he closes the distance between you, his hands grabbing you by the shoulders. “I thought you two were…” Din trails off, tilting his helmet as he observes the tears in your eyes. He moves his gloved hands to hold your face as his thumbs brush away any stray tears. “What is it,  _ cyar’ika?  _ Did something happen?” His voice is nearly breathless with fear when he continues. “Did he take the baby?”

“Did he—what?” you echo with confusion. “What are you talking about, Din?”

Din sighs with relief quickly, keeping you close as he explains himself. “ _ Riduur _ , Moff Gideon is still alive.” Your heart that’d been soaring in your chest suddenly sinks into your stomach, a horrible feeling consuming you as you can feel your expression fall even more. “Three days ago, he got a message from the facility saying they need more blood from the kid. They’re gonna try to take him again.”

You shake your head, wrapping your hands around Din’s wrists. “No.” Your gaze falls to Din’s cuirass. There’s no way you can tell him the news now; with the knowledge that Moff Gideon’s alive and is coming after your son again, you can’t possibly add the stress of another child who needs protecting to Din’s mind. You decide to keep it to yourself for now, looking back up to his visor with concern. “He’s not here, is here?”

“Not as far as I can tell. But when I saw you crying, I was afraid they’d already gotten him.”

You shake your head. “No, I just—I was coming from the medcenter.”

Now, it’s Din’s voice that’s full of concern. “Is everything okay?”

You nod, your eyes nearly beginning to fill with tears again as you smile a bit. “Everything is fine, Din— _ perfect _ .” Din releases a large breath of relief as he brushes his gloved thumbs over your cheeks. “I’ll fill you in later. For now, we have to get our son out of here.”

“You’re right.” Din takes you by the hand and starts to run with you towards the school, thankfully being very familiar with the way as you get there in record time. You stay outside while Din goes in, taking the child from his desk and hurrying out. You notice the baby’s got a silver-wrapped stack of blue cookies with him, making you raise an eyebrow as he simply coos at you. “Let’s head back to the  _ Crest _ .”

You start to run alongside him again, raising your brow as you look over at him. “Do you think she’s ready yet?”

Din tilts his helmet. “I sure hope so.”

You grit your teeth, letting your feet take you as fast as they can to the hangar. Thankfully, a fully refurbished  _ Crest  _ comes into view, her silhouette as relieving as ever. You and Din speed ahead as Din opens the hatch using his vambrace, satisfied to see it working as smoothly as ever.

“ _ Shab’lek! _ ”  _ Fuck yeah!  _ Din exclaims with relief, and you don’t bother to elbow him this time as you make your way into the  _ Crest _ . The three of you get to the cockpit in record time, where Din sets the baby down in one seat and straps him in tight. You do the same in the other seat, watching as Din works the controls with ease. “Hang on, everyone. This could get interesting.”

“Din,” you warn, raising your brow as he gets the  _ Crest  _ into the air. “What do you mean?”

“The others are in a tight spot,” Din informs you, and when he turns the ship, you can see the TIE fighters in the distance. “We’ve got to help them.”

“Then do what you do best,  _ riduur _ .”

You can sense Din’s smirk as he answers. “Oh, I’ll show off for you,  _ rid’ika _ .”

You chuckle until he jerks the ship up in a quick motion, making you hold on tight to whatever you can as the  _ Crest  _ zooms through the air. You’re not piloting her, but you can feel how smooth she glides, causing Din’s gloved fingers to flutter happily on the joystick as he makes his way towards the TIEs. He flips over them to approach them from behind, causing your stomach—and your  _ baby _ , much to your horror—to go along with the ship. You close your eyes for a moment to focus on not getting sick again.

Din gets one, letting the  _ Crest  _ zoom forward before he pulls the ship up. Your back flattens against the seat as you hear the child giggling excitedly beside you, and you look to see him raising his little arms and cookies in the air as if he’s on some sort of amusement ride. You giggle and shake your head, facing forward again as Din takes out another TIE. The child hollers in joy again as Din pulls back on the joystick, flipping the  _ Crest  _ back over so that you’re facing the ground again. He then zooms ahead to approach the last fighter, letting the  _ Crest  _ spin a few times to dodge their bolts. You close your eyes, forcing yourself to take a few breaths as your medcenter snack from earlier tries to make its reappearance.

“ _ Din! _ ” you exclaim as the TIE comes closer.

“I know,  _ cyar’ika _ , I’m sorry—just hang on!” Din’s tone is curt yet sincere thanks to his focus, his fingers soon flexing on the joystick as he fires at the fighter. It bursts into flames, leaving the path clear as the  _ Crest  _ soars through open air.

You smile and shake your head, amazed at Din’s advanced piloting skills—no matter how sick they might make you feel. You can see the small figures of Cara and Karga celebrating on the ground below, making you smile wider as you watch Din turn around to look at your son.

“Not too bad, huh, kid?” Din asks your son, making you laugh until you look closer and realize you’re not the one who’s going to be sick. A small amount of blue-colored vomit spills from his tiny mouth, and he looks almost guiltily up at his father afterwards. “Oh boy.” Din sighs as he turns to the dashboard again, extending his left hand out towards you to stop you when you try to get up.

“That was some impressive flying, Mando!” Karga exclaims through the intercom. Din looks around for something to help the child, but settles for the edge of his cape, leaning back to wipe at his mouth and his robes. “What do I owe ya’?”

The child whimpers a few times in a way that makes your heart sink—but watching the tender care of Din, especially with the knowledge of what’s to come for him in such a fatherly role, makes you smile so wide your cheeks start to hurt. “With the repairs, let’s call it even,” Din responds to Karga, still working to clean up the child.

“Can I least buy you two a drink?” Karga asks.

You chuckle softly as Din fully faces the controls again. “Sorry, we have some… onboard maintenance we gotta take care of,” Din answers, making you snort. “Then we gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.”

“Well, good luck flying, my friends.”

You smile as Din turns off the intercom, letting the  _ Crest  _ soar ahead as he gets you out of the atmosphere. Once you’re back with the stars, he sets the coordinates for Corvus, sending you into hyperspace just moments later.

With a sigh, you unstrap yourself and stand from your seat, walking over to the child who’s still whining and picking him up. “I’ll clean him up,” you assure Din, watching as he looks over at you. “Will we all have enough time to get some rest?”

“We should be able to,” Din responds with a nod. “Should I meet you in bed, then?”

You nod, smiling as you turn to head down to the hull. The child nearly falls asleep in your arms—no doubt exhausted by the day spent in school, engaging in a TIE fighter attack, and getting sick—as you clean him up and get him into a swaddle of blankets. Once he’s in his hammock, you wash the vomit out of his robe, setting it out to dry and heading back up to your compartment. By the time you walk inside, Din’s already rid himself of his armor and left his shirt on the edge of the bed for you. You both remain in peaceful silence as you change, feeling as relieved as ever to fall not only into bed but also into his arms.

When Din has you close, he lets you hide your face in his neck, brushing his hands along your head and your back before he speaks softly. “So, what did the doctor say?” Din questions, his concern evident in his tone. “Is everything really okay?”

You smile to yourself, your eyes filling with tears yet again as you close them to keep them hidden away. With Corvus being your next stop, you decide to wait and tell him the truth once you’ve left the child with his people, wanting to use the news to brighten his spirits when he’s left his son behind. “Everything’s fine, Din.”

“Okay. It’s just… you looked very upset when I found you,  _ rid’ika _ . I was afraid something was wrong.”

You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying or telling him the news immediately. “No, nothing’s  _ wrong _ .” You whisper the next words against his warm skin. “It’s all perfect.” Knowing you need to come up with an excuse for your earlier behavior, you rack your mind for something believable. “I just missed you.”

Din presses a series of soft kisses to your head. “Oh,  _ cyar’ika _ , I’m so sorry I couldn’t go with you.  _ Ni ceta _ .”

“Don’t apologize, Din, it’s okay. It’s just weird when we spend so much time together now, you know?”

“Trust me,  _ ner kar’ta _ , I know.” Din pulls you even closer, tilting your chin up with his hand for a moment to press a kiss to your lips. “Try to sleep, all right? We’ll need all the energy we can get for Corvus.”

You nod, smiling as you go in for one more kiss before you hide your face in his neck again. “I love you.” Your voice wobbles as you say the words, thinking of how deep it truly all goes now as one of your hands subconsciously rests on your stomach.

“I love you too,  _ rid’ika _ .  _ Nuhoy _ .”  _ Sleep _ .

With a bursting heart and a warm chest, you find rest with the father of your current and future child—your clan of four, letting the joyful image of his smile upon hearing the news linger in your mind.

And little do you know that the beating of your heart falls in rhythm with the flickers of the tracking beacon that’s hidden within your home, bringing Moff Gideon closer and closer to breaking up your family before it even has a chance to grow.


	36. The Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess land on Corvus in search of the baby’s new mentor, who helps them to make some unexpected discoveries.

Din looks over at the little one fondly as Corvus comes into view. He’s sitting on top of the controls, looking as content as ever to be up front. Din doesn’t usually let him sit here anymore, but with the inevitable separation that’s coming between himself and the one he’s come to consider a son, he’s been letting the baby stay as close as he can allow.

“I’m starting the landing cycle,” Din tells the baby with a gentle yet matter-of-fact tone, clicking around the controls as he prepares the  _ Crest  _ to land. “You better get back in your seat.”

Din keeps moving around the controls, but he can sense the baby’s presence beside him, unmoving as he coos curiously at something he’s seen. He frowns beneath his helmet, taking the time to look at the little one as he jerks his head back towards the seat behind him.

“Hey, what did I tell you?” Din scolds softly. “Back in your seat.”

The baby coos rather sadly as he makes his way to his seat, though Din distracts himself by continuing to prepare the  _ Crest  _ for landing. He can’t help smiling to himself underneath the helmet at the idea of the baby wanting to be close to him—though it’s a bittersweet feeling. Din knows what’s to come on Corvus and he wonders if the baby does, too. His son’s always seemed to understand everything around him, especially as of late, in a way that amazes Din.

Din’s noticed it lately when it comes to you. The thought of you in general makes Din smile as he eases the  _ Crest  _ down to the surface of Corvus. You’re in the hull right now, making preparations for the trip that lies ahead. Ever since you left Nevarro, there’s been a certain glow to you that Din hasn’t seen before. The baby seems to notice it, too, as he sticks closer to your side than ever. He’s often cooing happily at you even with nothing in particular prompting it.

This has caused Din’s thoughts to go places he knows they shouldn’t—to have hopeful thoughts of something you might have found out on Nevarro. He knows it’s possible, but it’s not likely, and so Din doesn’t dare to get his hopes up. He knows you would tell him about something so important, too, unless you had a good reason not to. That’s why Din keeps it as a mere daydream, an alternate reality he can think of in a galaxy where Moff Gideon didn’t survive that crash and he could finally make a home for you, the child, and the rest of your future family.

He releases a sigh as he flies the  _ Crest  _ over the city of Calodan, soon finding sturdy ground on which to land the ship. The planet seems rather eerie even through the transparisteel of the cockpit. Din can see a greenish haze that’s settled in the surrounding wood, the silhouette of a large creature in the distance warning him of possible trouble. He’s cautious even within his ship as he rises from his seat, gesturing for the baby to follow as he heads down to where you are in the hull.

You turn around to face him and for a second, Din thinks you’ve knocked the air from his lungs just at the smile you give him. You’ve already gotten everything prepared for the trek ahead—the brown bag he’d been given by your friends on Sorgan to carry the baby, the pulse rifle loaded in your hands, a small bag of your own that’s no doubt full of food and water in case you can’t get back to the  _ Crest  _ for the night. Din looks at you and sees not just his wife, not just a fighter, not just a mother—but the co-leader of his clan. He knows the future of it is in good hands.

“Din?” your voice pulls Din from his trance, making him blink a few times behind his helmet as he takes another step towards you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Din assures you, taking the pulse rifle from your hands as he slings it over his shoulder. “I just…” Din pauses, using a gloved hand to gesture to you, “...  _ you _ .”

You laugh softly, raising an eyebrow as you press your hands upon his cuirass. “What did I do this time?”

Din shakes his helmet. “There are no words for it.” He lifts a hand to raise his helmet just enough to kiss you, relishing in the feeling before he reluctantly pulls away. “We should head out.”

“I think I got everything.” You look around as you speak, also checking the bag that’s slung across your body. “We should be good for a few days if something happens.”

“It won’t.” Din’s words come quick, with the usual amount of protectiveness he knows he radiates. He steps forward to lower the hatch, still waiting to place the baby in his bag as he surveys the area first. Din walks down the ramp, taking a look around and nodding to himself when he doesn’t spot any immediate danger.

“Is the coast clear,  _ riduur? _ ” you question as you stand alongside him.

Din offers a nod. “Looks like it. Calodan’s not too far away.” Din turns around when he hears the tiny footsteps of his son, just to watch as he falls onto his bottom with his ears lowering in exhaustion. Din grimaces, recognizing the tiredness the baby usually feels after using his powers—and then seeing the baby looking intently at the silver sphere in his tiny hand, one that he must’ve acquired while Din was landing. “What did I say about that?” Din sighs in a soft yet firm manner, bending down to take the sphere in his gloved fingers. “This needs to stay in the ship.”

The baby whines, his eyes begging for forgiveness as Din tucks the sphere into the pouch on his belt. He looks back out at the landscape when you speak up again. “Not much to see out here,” you comment, and Din watches as your gaze scans the area.

“I’ve never had dealings with a Jedi before.” Din turns back to the baby who’s since gotten up and has reached out to him with his arms outstretched. He bends down to pick him up and settle him into the satchel slung across his body. “I didn’t think that…  _ this  _ would be their ideal place of living.”

“I was young when my parents met with the Jedi during the Clone Wars,” you tell him, looking at the baby who coos from the satchel. “I don’t remember much of it.”

Din sighs, looking to the path ahead. “Well, we should head into town and see if we can pick up a lead.”

You nod, walking by his side as you leave the  _ Crest  _ behind. Since he’s unfamiliar with the people here, Din doesn’t take your hand for fear that such a sign of affection could be used against you. The urge is hard to resist as the three of you push ahead, his desire to cure the tension he can see in your shoulders rising the closer you get to the walls of Calodan.

They come into view after a mile’s walk, with Din being the one who steps forward as he faces the three guards who stand on the top of the gates. The one in the middle—the only one who shows their face—becomes the one to address him. Din makes sure to keep the baby covered by his cape as the guard calls out to him.

“State your business,” he demands.

“Been tracking for a few days,” Din answers simply, raising his voice to be heard. “We’re looking for a layover.”

Din can feel your gaze land on him, pleasantly surprised at his ability to stretch the truth. He nearly chuckles to himself as the guard speaks again. “Nice armor.” Din doesn’t respond, instead lowering his helmet a bit as his fingers flutter at his sides. The guard continues. “You a hunter, then?”

Din raises his helmet again and offers a nod. “That’s right.”

The guard furrows his brow. “Guild?”

Din shifts his weight. “Last I checked.”

He gestures with his head to you. “And who are you?”

There’s a cold chill that runs down his spine, but Din chooses to ignore it as you answer with a strong and confident voice. “His partner.”

The guard gives Din an unimpressed look. “You need a partner?”

Din tightens his fists at his sides, forcing away his anger at the guard underestimating the importance of your strength. “Keeps the work from getting sloppy.”

The guard exchanges words with the man on his right. He seems satisfied enough as he nods, turning back to face you and Din. “Open the gate.”

The gates start to open, and Din keeps you close to his side as you walk in together. He can sense the unease rolling off of you in waves, causing him to grimace. Din lets the baby take his gloved hand in his little claws to keep him from grabbing your hand, as he knows his own self control wouldn’t allow it. When the gates close behind you, Din feels eerily trapped inside—but he hopes you know he’ll knock down those gates himself if that’s what it takes to get the three of you out of here.

Once you’re walking further into the city, Din only feels more uneasy. The people who walk by keep their heads down, some even running so as to make it past the two of you more quickly. There are a few vendors who line the streets, though they also keep their gazes averted, their heads covered by torn fabric as they silently tend to their tables.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” you murmur to Din, making him grunt with agreement as he dares to confront one vendor to his right.

“Pardon me, vendor,” Din greets, keeping his voice gentle as he approaches. “Have you heard of anyone…”

Din trails off when the vendor turns and leaves without a single word, a sigh falling from his modulator as he looks over at you. The two of you share a concerned glance, his helmet tilting to the side as he frowns to himself. A sudden noise from a nearby alley catches Din’s attention, and when he turns to look, he sees an older man distributing food to two children. Deciding he’s trustworthy, Din starts to walk towards him, sensing you close behind him as he does so.

“You there,” Din calls for him, continuing despite the fact the man doesn’t look his way, “we need some information.” Finally, the man and the two children look over at him, their expressions nearly horrified. “We’re looking for someone.” Din tightens his fist with concern, listening as even the baby coos in a worried manner.

The man turns back to the children, addressing them before he turns to Din. The children run away as he speaks. “Please, do not speak to them, or to any of us,” the man pleads, creating a pit in Din’s stomach. He can feel you shift between your feet nervously behind him, and this time he doesn’t deny himself the luxury of finding your fingertips and brushing them along his for comfort.

“Look, we just need to know—,” Din starts, but gets cut off the voice of a guard behind the two of you.

“The Magistrate wants to see you,” they say, their voice leaving no room for argument. You and Din both turn slowly to face him, your fingers regretfully returning to your sides as you try to hide as much as you can about your relationship. The tension’s nearly choking as Din turns back towards the villager, seeing his gaze cast down at the ground before he reluctantly walks in the guards’ direction. You follow, never separating from Din’s side as he lets the guards lead him to the gates at the opposite end of the city.

Din keeps his gaze straight ahead to avoid making him feel more sick than he already does—but the sounds of electric shocks and a man weeping makes him stop and look to the side. “Help us,” the man pleads, just before he’s shocked again. He cries out in pain, making Din clench his jaw as he faces the gates again. His hands turn into fists yet again at his sides, especially when he hears a female voice next.

“She’ll kill us all!” the woman exclaims with desperation.

“I don’t like this, Din,” you whisper to him, your voice tight with the same amount of concern that’s practically rotting him to his core.

“We’ll keep it quick,” Din assures you as the guards open the gates. “We’ll just be in and out once we get the information. Promise.”

Din can feel you press closer to his side as you look ahead, walking with him to the next gate that awaits you. You both remain still as the gates behind you close, a breath being held between the two of you as the ones ahead of you swing open.

They reveal a sight that’s much more peaceful than the one you’ve just walked through. There’s a wooden walkway that splits two ponds of water, surrounded by beautiful plants that make the whole place feel serene. There’s a guard who stands at the door of the circular palace, where a woman stands and studies one of the plants. Din takes only a step forward as he observes the place, wondering how someone can live in such peace with all the terror that lives just beyond the gates.

“Come forward,” the Magistrate calls. Din looks to her, holding back a sigh before he obliges. You follow at his side, and Din’s glad to have you close as he stops again after just a few steps. “You are a Mandalorian?”

Din heaves out a breath, hoping he’s kept his annoyance to himself. “Yes.”

She doesn’t look away from where she’s now feeding whatever creatures swim in the water as she speaks again. “And you’re his…” she pauses, taking a quick glance at you before returning to her feeding, “prize?”

“My  _ partner _ ,” Din corrects, not failing to reveal his aggression as he defends your honor. The word “wife” would’ve easily rolled off his lips should he not be wary of with whom he’s speaking.

The Magistrate hums with feigned interest. “Well, Mandalorian, I have a proposition that may interest you.”

Din flexes his fingers at his side, very aware of your close presence beside him as he averts his gaze from the Magistrate. “Our price is high.”

The Magistrate finally turns to face you and Din, taking a few steps closer to you. “This target is  _ priceless _ .” She gives you both a serious glance before continuing. “A Jedi plagues me.” Din’s heart starts to drum harder in his chest at the mention of the very person he’s been looking for. “I want you to kill her.”

Din lowers his helmet. “That’s a difficult task.”

“One that you are well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

“As I said, our price is  _ high _ .” Din’s sick of the back-and-forth, instead seeking to gain information on the Jedi for the sake of the baby who’s hiding within his cape. He watches as the guard steps forward to hand something to the Magistrate, his helmet nearly tilting in curiosity as he makes out some sort of spear.

The Magistrate starts to walk forward with the spear extended towards Din, making his hand brush over his holster as she comes closer. “What do you make of this?” She stops and flips the spear in her hands so that the head faces away from the two of you, and then she sets it in her open hands for Din to take.

He hesitates, sharing a glance with you before he steps forward to take it. You stay where you are, just as Din wanted you to. When Din gets to the Magistrate, he holds his hands out for her to place the spear into them, accepting it with caution as he holds the metal gingerly. Din takes a step back and flips the spear over in his gloved hands, testing the texture and the weight as he observes it closely. The metal looks all too familiar, and that’s what leads him to hit it against his vambrace, being met with the ringing sound that only beskar against beskar can make. “Beskar,” Din breathes, once again holding the spear delicately.

“ _ Pure  _ beskar,” the Magistrate confirms, “like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”

Din holds in a sigh, looking at the spear as he hears the baby coo worriedly and quietly underneath his cape. He then takes a glance back at you, meeting your gaze that’s full of concern as he gives you a reassuring nod. With a plan already in mind, Din steps forward and hands the spear back to the Magistrate. “Where do I find this Jedi?” he questions, determined to get his information—without confirming whether or not he’ll take the job.

Still, the Magistrate smiles as if she’s already won, soon giving Din the coordinates of the Jedi’s last known location. As soon as he has what you both need, he leads the way out, keeping you close as the Magistrate’s main guard soon escorts you both to the main gates. The guard tries to speak to Din as the gates open, but Din urges you all forward, insistent upon getting as far away from that city as possible. Once he knows you’re out of earshot, Din hears you speak, your voice wavering a bit in your worry. “Din, I don’t like this at all,” you confess, earning his gaze as he looks over at you through his visor. “Did you see the people in that city? They’re being oppressed! And we’re  _ helping  _ this Magistrate?”

“We’re doing no such thing,” Din assures you, taking your hand within the safety of the surrounding wood. “I didn’t formally take the job. As far as the Guild code goes, I’m just out here on my own.”

Your gaze flashes with relief, though you still give his hand a squeeze. “We can’t just let those people suffer, Din.”

He sighs. “I know,  _ rid’ika _ . I… don’t like to see that, either.” He pauses as he ducks under a branch, urging you to do the same. “But we  _ have  _ to make the child our priority right now. That’s what we were quested to do.”

“I know.” Din doesn’t miss the remorse in your voice, your desire to do everything you can for those who can’t defend themselves evident. He admires it more than you know, but he can’t allow it to prevail right now, so he keeps the thought to himself. “I really wanted to talk some sense into that Magistrate, though.”

Din bites back a smile underneath his helmet. “If anyone could’ve, it would’ve been you,  _ cyar’ika _ .” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “As she damn well deserves.” The two of you press on for a few more minutes, and Din checks his vambrace as he regretfully drops your hand and releases a breath. “Well, these are the coordinates.” He looks over at you and then down at the child. “Keep your eyes open. We must be close.”

You nod, and Din takes his rifle in one of his hands as you both keep going. Din looks around with his heat sensor as he walks, waiting for any sign of life other than the two of you. It’s not long until Din hears a rustling, and instantly he stops in his tracks as he reaches out his free hand to make you do the same. You look over at him, furrowing your brow as Din tilts his helmet at you.

“You hear that?” Din murmurs, glancing over the landscape. He then hears the child coo in his bag, and Din takes him from his place there to rest him on a nearby boulder. “Don’t worry, little one. Sit right here. Let me see what’s out there.” Din looks to you, gesturing with his helmet towards the child. “You should stay with him.”

You frown. “And let you face a Jedi or something worse on your own?”

Din gestures to his armor. “This is beskar,  _ cyare _ . It’ll keep me protected—and I can’t let you run that risk without any of your own out here.”

You sigh, giving in with a nod as you draw your blaster and stand by the child. “All right. But if you get hurt, Din…”

“I’ll be fine,  _ rid’ika _ .” Quickly, Din touches his helmet to your forehead, brushing his free hand over your cheek before he steps away. He lifts his scope to his visor to get a better look, glancing around the landscape to find the source of the rustling. Instead of a Jedi, he finds one of the same four-legged creatures he’d spotted when he first landed, making him sigh as he puts his scope away. “False alarm,” Din starts to announce with a sigh. “It’s—.”

Din gets cut off by a yell that comes from above him, and he has just enough time to turn and block his helmet before two white laser swords crash on top of him. He can hear the shocked sounds of your gasps in the distance, but Din can’t let them distract him as he blocks the Jedi’s vicious swings. She comes from one side and then the next with both blades, the white light highlighting the deep blue of her eyes as she looks at Din almost wildly. He meets her hardest strike right down the middle, crossing both his arms over his helmet as he pushes against her.

In a quick movement, Din frees one arm to aim his flamethrower at the Jedi, watching as she flips away to avoid his flames and lets her burning cloak fall to the ground. Within the same movement, Din lets his grappling hook wrap around her, securing her arms to her sides. She looks up before Din has a chance to do the same, offering a sly smile before she jumps up high. She clears a branch and takes Din with her, causing him to cut the cord as quickly as he can before he unholsters his blaster and turns to face her.

“Ahsoka Tano!” Din calls with urgency, reaching out his free hand in a peaceful position as he spots her getting ready to fight him again with her laser swords. The Jedi raises her brow expectantly as Din continues. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

Ahsoka keeps her laser swords drawn until her gaze leaves Din, looking somewhere beyond him. He knows it’s at you and the child, which ultimately causes her to sheathe her swords as she stands up straight again. “I hope it’s about him,” she speaks, her voice low and wise as she looks at the child. The baby coos curiously and tilts his head at Ahsoka, and Din releases a breath of relief as he holsters his blaster and leads the way over. You also holster your blaster, your chest just starting to rise and fall in a normal pattern after your panic for Din. It makes his heart constrict in his chest as the three of you gather around the child’s rock.

“Ahsoka Tano,” you greet, catching the Jedi’s attention as you nod respectfully. You then introduce yourself. “I was raised on Arilia.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widen at that. “Arilia,” she echoes, a hint of sympathy in her voice. “My Master had a dealing there once during the Clone Wars. I wasn’t able to go—but I heard it was a beautiful planet.”

You nod. “Thank you. I’m… sure you know what happened there.” Ahsoka nods, her head tilting in a gentle manner. You take a breath, gesturing to Din. “He’s my husband. And this…” you now gesture to the little green child, “would be his foundling.”

“ _ Our  _ foundling,” Din corrects you, catching Ahsoka’s attention as he nods. “He was a bounty of mine a long time ago, kept hostage by a group of Niktos. Now, he’s being hunted by the Empire.”

Ahsoka hums at that, her gaze falling back on the child who coos curiously up at her. “He seems very sweet.” She then looks between the two of you. “I can try to speak with him—if that’s all right.”

You and Din exchange a glance, ultimately nodding as you let Ahsoka reach forward to pick up the child. He coos and shows no signs of being uncomfortable, causing some of the tension to fall from Din’s shoulders as he follows where Ahsoka starts to walk. You do the same, staying at Din’s side as you watch her take her robe back from the ground. The four of you remain in silence, pushing ahead as darkness starts to fall over Corvus.

Once the child sits across from Ahsoka, he feels an overwhelming sense of peace in the Force. It’s a presence he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since before that night at the temple. He would be afraid, but Ahsoka’s presence is somehow familiar to him—and he senses no malice in her. She smiles as she reaches out to him.

_ What’s your name, little one?  _ Ahsoka asks him.

_ Grogu _ , he answers, for the first time in too long. He then gestures with a tiny hand to you and Din, who stand further away.  _ My parents, those are _ . Grogu watches as his father paces nervously and keeps looking their way, though you try in vain to keep him calm.

_ So I’ve heard _ , Ahsoka remarks, smiling as she also looks at Grogu’s parents.  _ They do not wield the Force, though. _

_ No _ , Grogu confirms,  _ trained fighters, they are. Many skills they have. Kept me very safe, they have. My father especially. _

_ I know Mandalorians are very skilled warriors. How did you meet this one? _

Grogu goes on to tell Ahsoka his story, even going back to his days at the Jedi temple. He discovers that Ahsoka was once Anakin’s apprentice, something that makes him nervous only temporarily. Ahsoka’s familiarity with Mandalore puts Grogu at ease, since it connects Ahsoka to the people of his father—the person he trusts the most with his life. Grogu confesses that he’s been hiding his Force abilities, but he’s started to use them again in the care of his father, wanting to keep him safe with the different things he’s learned to do in the Force. Near the end of their exchange, Grogu specifically mentions one.  _ Life I have sensed _ , Grogu tells her.  _ Within our clan, it is _ .

_ Your clan is them, correct?  _ Ahsoka looks over to the place where Din is still nervously pacing, though you’ve tried to take a grip on his arm to stop him. Grogu giggles and nods.  _ What kind of life? _

_ New life _ , Grogu explains.  _ Has it, my mother does. A little one, I think there is. _

Ahsoka smiles before she furrows her brow at Grogu.  _ I can sense it, too. Do they know? _

_ Know, they do not—but know, they should. Much danger, we have been in. Rest, my mother needs. _

Ahsoka nods, smiling yet again as she looks over at you and Din.  _ I’ll tell them, Grogu.  _ She then looks back to him.  _ Are you ready for me to tell your story? _

_ Gentle, please be. A lot, I mean to them—and them to me. Love them, I do.  _ Ahsoka beams at that, nodding before she stands up to take Grogu in her arms.

Meanwhile, Din only stops his pacing when he notices Ahsoka standing with the baby in her arms. That’s when he feels the gentle squeezing on his arm, making him look over at you. Your expression is full of reassurance as one of your hands travels down to meet his. “It’ll be all right, Din,” you say softly, entwining your fingers with his. “Whatever she has to say…” you pause, giving his hand a squeeze as you nod at him, “I’m here. For all of it.”

“I know.” Din’s words are just as hushed as your own, his helmet meeting your forehead as he closes his eyes behind the visor. “Thank you.”

You press a gentle kiss to his beskar cheek, smiling as you pull away and walk with him to the place where Ahsoka’s setting the child upon a stone. Din helps you to sit on a stone across from Ahsoka and the lantern she’s set down, but he remains standing, too anxious for now to join you as the gloved fingers on his free hand flutter at his side.

“Has he been speaking?” Din says, watching as the baby tilts his head at Ahsoka and coos something. “Do you… understand him?”

Ahsoka takes a deep breath, looking at the child before she tucks her arms into her cloak. “In a way,” she answers in a contemplative manner. “Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

Din immediately looks down at you, finding you already looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. “Grogu?” he echoes, glancing back at Ahsoka.

As soon as he says the name, the child coos almost excitedly, looking at Din as if he’s the one who strung up the stars in the Corvus night sky. It makes Din start to smile underneath his helmet, even as Ahsoka speaks. “Yes. That’s his name.”

Din looks at you and then the baby again, shifting his weight on his feet before he nods. “Grogu.”

Yet again, the baby turns to Din with joy, cooing as his ears perk up as high as they can go on his head. Din can feel his heart soar in his chest, especially when he feels the squeezing of your hand and looks to see you viewing Grogu with the same smile he hides underneath his helmet. “Grogu,” you say next, your voice gentle as Grogu nearly squeals with delight. You laugh softly, reaching forward just to give his ear a pet.

“He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant,” Ahsoka explains, facing the two of you with severity. “Many Masters trained him over the years.” As she speaks, Grogu starts to blink slowly, his head hanging and his eyes closing more and more in an exhausted manner. Din tries not to worry too much about it as he instead focuses on Ahsoka’s words.

She tells you Grogu’s story, of the fear and loneliness he experienced after the Empire rose to power. It makes Din’s protectiveness grow, especially as he finds himself relating to Grogu’s own experiences. The comparison makes his knees grow weak, and that’s when he finally sits beside you, letting the feeling of your side pressed against his soothe him the more he learns about his son.

At the end of the story, Ahsoka lifts her gaze to you and Din. “Can he still wield the Force? He mentioned that he has been—but only around you.”

“You mean, his powers?” Din seeks to clarify.

“The Force is what gives him his powers,” Ahsoka says. “It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline.”

Din looks at Grogu as she finishes, watching as he nods off upon the stone. He searches for words to say, and he knows you’d do the same, but he also knows you’re aware of how important this is to him—and you’re leaving this conversation to be made on his terms. “I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain.” Din shakes his helmet before he looks back at Ahsoka. “My task— _ our  _ task—was to bring him to a Jedi.”

Ahsoka looks at Grogu, releasing a deep breath before she glances at Din again. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

“So did the Empire,” Din insists with a determined frown, “yet it still hunts him.” Ahsoka swallows hard at that. “He needs your help.”

Ahsoka sits in silence for a long moment, looking at Grogu again as she sighs. Din shares a glance with you, finding the same hopefulness he feels in his chest in your eyes before he looks at Ahsoka again. “Let him sleep,” she says softly. “I’ll test him in the morning.” Her gaze looks between the two of you as it starts to glow brighter, causing Din to get curious as she continues. “But first… there’s something Grogu wanted me to tell you two.”

Din feels you give his hand another squeeze, a gesture that he returns. “We’d love to hear it,” you insist, finding the words Din doesn’t think he could possibly put together. He’s always desired having the ability to communicate more effectively with his son, and now, it’s happening.

“Grogu sees you both as his parents,” Ahsoka begins, already making Din’s heart drum hard against his beskar as his free hand tightens into a fist, “and he cares about you both very much.” She smiles as she looks at Grogu’s sleeping form. “In fact, he said he  _ loves  _ you.”

Din feels as if the air’s been knocked from his lungs as you manage to speak in disbelief. “He… He said that?”

Ahsoka nods. “He did.” She looks back to the two of you. “He also said he senses life within your clan.” She gestures to you. “Within  _ you _ .”

“Life?” Din’s the one to echo this word, looking over at you just to see your mouth dropped open in further disbelief. “What do you mean ‘life?’”

“I can sense it, too.” Ahsoka instead continues, beaming now as she looks pointedly at Din. “Your clan… it’s growing.”

Din’s brow furrows underneath his helmet. “Growing? How…” Din trails off, looking over at you and meeting your tearful gaze. Suddenly, it all comes together—the flame of hope he’d tried to control within himself, the expression you’d been wearing when he found you on Nevarro, every symptom you’ve shown. He tilts his helmet at you, watching you nod as he looks between you and Ahsoka. “You… we…  _ really? _ ”

You manage a soft laugh, nodding yet again as you hold Din’s hand with both of yours. “Yes,” you confirm. “I—I was going to tell you after I found out on Nevarro, but when I heard about Moff Gideon’s return, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Din still can’t process what’s being said, his hands beginning to shake as he stares at them. When Ahsoka speaks after a long silence, her voice sounds distant to him, as if she’s a mile away. “I’ll retire for the night and give you some privacy. We’ll meet again in the morning.” She leaves her lantern with you as she uses one of her laser swords for guidance, and as soon as she’s well out of earshot, Din hears you speak to him.

“Din?” Your voice is soft and soothing, but Din still can’t lift his gaze from your hands, his actions far behind his mind as it moves more quickly than he can comprehend. It’s only when your hands meet the sides of his helmet that his gaze meets yours again, the concern obvious in your eyes as you seek consent to remove his helmet. Din offers a small nod, watching as you slowly lift the beskar from his head. He hadn’t been aware that there were tears on his cheeks until they met the open air, cooling his skin as he watches your brow lift in worry. “Are you okay,  _ riduur? _ ”

“Am I okay?” Din barely recognizes his choked-up voice as he repeats your words. He chuckles a bit, his gloved hands finding the sides of your face as he smiles through his tears of mixed joy and disbelief. “ _ Rid’ika _ , I—,” Din forces himself to pause for a second, swallowing hard as he shakes his head at you, “I just can’t…” He shakes his head again, running his thumbs over your cheeks as he smiles and feels another tear fall.

You smile back at him, brushing the tear away. “I know it’s scary,” you remark, keeping your voice gentle as you hold his gaze, “especially with everything that’s happening right now.”

“I’m not scared,” Din assures you. “I’m just—I-I just… I don’t know what I did to deserve this,  _ cyar’ika _ .” Din’s voice wavers with his last few words, and he can feel his lips trembling as he tries to continue. “I’ve—I’ve taken so many lives, and now I… I get to  _ create  _ one? With  _ you? _ ” Din gives his head another shake, closing his eyes as he lets his forehead fall against yours. “How could I possibly deserve such happiness?”

“Din, don’t say such things.” Din feels you press a kiss to his nose, making him reopen his eyes as you brush away more of his stray tears. “You found your redemption long ago with the child— _ Grogu _ . You only do what you have to.” You smile at him, letting one hand run over his hair as your gaze starts to fill with more tears. “You deserve the galaxy,  _ riduur _ .”

“I don’t want the galaxy,  _ cyare _ .” Din whispers these words as he keeps you close, smiling again as he remembers what he’s been told. “I just want  _ you _ —and our family.” Din looks over at the place where Grogu still sleeps on the stone. “Grogu, and…” Din swallows hard, his gaze falling to your stomach as his vision blurs with joyful tears, “our baby.” He looks up at you, laughing softly in disbelief as he brushes a tear away from under your eye. “ _ Our  _ baby.”

“Our baby,” you repeat, also laughing before Din moves to bury your face in his shoulder. He secures the back of your head with his hand, pressing his face into your hair as you both exchange soft cries of joy. With everything you’ve been through together, Din can’t believe the galaxy’s rewarding you two with such a gift. He’s dreamed of this day for longer than he’s even known, and now, he gets to share it with you. Getting to have that revealed to him through his own adopted son just makes his heart burst even more, causing him to hold you tightly as he keeps you close and openly expresses his pure happiness with you.

The moment you lift your head from his shoulder, Din reaches for your face and pulls it to his, kissing you with a passion that makes both him and you forget where you are for the moment. He can practically feel the beating of his heart in sync with yours—with that of the child within you—and it only makes him kiss you harder. Din’s hands travel from your face to your neck and then your shoulders, all the way until they fall upon your stomach. When you both pull away, breathless and smiling with tear-stained cheeks, Din takes one of your hands and presses a kiss upon your palm. He then sets it over your stomach, kissing your forehead as your body melts against his. “I love you,” Din whispers, his voice low and full of the honest and true emotion he feels within him. “I love your strength, and your loyalty, and your beauty, and… all of it. Everything.” Din chuckles as he kisses your nose. “You find so many new ways to amaze me.”

You laugh softly at that, letting your head fall upon his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his middle. “I love you too, Din,” you murmur, pulling down the fabric around his neck to press a kiss to his skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I—.”

“ _ Shhh _ , don’t apologize,  _ ner kar’ta _ ,” Din interrupts, resting his chin on your head as he runs his gloved hand along your arm. “I know you’d only keep such secrets for good reason. And now…” Din keeps smiling to himself, “we can protect them  _ together _ .” With the thought in mind, Din starts to frown, his concern finally showing as he tightens his hold on you. “How long has it been? How much danger have I put the  _ two  _ of you in?”

Din can feel your breath as you sigh into his neck. “Din—.”

“No more adventures for you,  _ cyar’ika _ . I’m sorry, but I’ll have to put you on strict lookout duty only from now on. No more action.”

“Din,” you laugh this time, holding him tighter. “I understand, but I’ve been fine and I’ll continue to be fine, all right? It’s only been four weeks.”

Din’s eyes widen. “ _ Four  _ weeks?” He pauses, trying to think back that far. “Does that mean…?”

“Sorgan,” you answer with another laugh.

Din shakes his head and laughs with you. “I… figured.” He then presses a kiss upon your head and looks towards where his other child is still sleeping on the stone. “Well, the four of us should attempt to get some rest.”

You nod, though Din can tell it’s a tired action. That’s why he takes you up into his arms, disregarding your protest of a quiet squeal as you bury your face into his shoulder. Din walks you over to where Grogu is sleeping, scooping him up to lay with you as he carries you both to a more comfortable place on the forest floor. You’re both already close to sleeping by the time Din lays you two upon him, and he smiles to himself as he holds you tight in his arms. He’s regretful to put his helmet back on, which makes his view harder to depict with his night vision, but he does what he knows is best, as he always will for his clan.

Din would do  _ anything  _ for his clan, and he hopes that’s enough to keep you all safe—though he knows there are people in this galaxy who would do just the same to destroy the family he’s fought so hard for.


	37. The Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When training with Grogu doesn’t work out, Din strikes yet another deal—one the princess can’t help with.

Waking up in Din’s arms isn’t as peaceful as falling asleep was.

Your stomach is turning from the moment your eyes open, making you squeeze your eyes shut again as you bury your face into the cloth of Din’s neck. Unintentionally, you release a muffled whimper of distress, which instantly makes Din stir as a gloved hand runs over your back.

“What is it,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din asks with strong concern, his modulated voice still raspier than usual from his slumber. He lets you curl up even more into him, despite the way Grogu starts to coo as the movements wake him up. “Are you okay? Is it the—?”

“Morning sickness,” you manage to tell him, swallowing hard to keep anything from coming up. You shake your head and lean further into Din. “I don’t want to get sick again.”

Din sets Grogu at his side, letting him nestle his way into his hip as Din uses both arms to soothe you. One hand stays on your back as the other brushes over your head. As softly as he can through his modulator, Din coos sweet nothings to you, trying to get your mind off the feeling as you instead try to focus on the soft movements of his hands. Your hands have instinctively clutched the material of his cape as your arms stay wrapped around him and you let the material run through your fingers as you try to release it. “There you go,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din praises once he senses you relaxing more. One of his gloved hands then travels over your stomach. “ _ Ner ad’ika _ , you better be kind to your mother.”

Almost immediately after he speaks, the rest of the symptoms disappear, causing you to lift your head from Din’s neck as you face him with wide eyes. “How did you do that?”

“Do… what?”

You shake your head slowly in amazement. “It’s just… I don’t feel sick anymore. After you talked.”

Din shrugs, lifting one of his hands to trail his knuckles down the side of your face. “I guess she’s not as stubborn as us.”

You start to smile at that. “I guess—,” you pause, finally realizing what Din said as you wrinkle your brow, “did you say ‘she?’” Din nods, causing you to chuckle as you place your hand over Din’s and press it against your cheek. “Din, they’re only four weeks old! We don’t have that information yet.”

“I don’t need it. I just  _ know _ .” Din urges your forehead to rest against his helmet and you can picture the smile underneath his helmet. “I can’t wait to meet our daughter.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Or our son.”

Din runs his thumb over your cheek. “Our  _ second  _ son.” He then looks down at Grogu, using the hand that’s not on your cheek to pet one of his ears. Grogu coos fondly at his father. “Are you excited to meet your little sister, Grogu?”

“Din!” you laugh, lightly slapping his hand to get it away from Grogu. “You can’t say something like that to him, he’ll get confused!”

Grogu giggles when he hears both you and Din doing the same, the sounds warming your heart as you picture the future of your family—the future that could possibly end today, should Ahsoka take Grogu away for training.

The thought almost makes your nausea return.

Din’s just helped you and Grogu up from the ground when you hear the crunching of terrain nearby. You figure it’s Ahsoka, but you can see Din reach for his blaster just in case. Her montrals and lekku soon appear from around a tree as she smiles at the sight of your family. “Good morning,” she greets, bowing her head in a respectful manner. You smile as Din repeats the gesture. Ahsoka then reaches forward to Grogu, who’s sitting almost shyly in your arms. “Are you ready, little one?”

Grogu offers a coo as his ears fall slightly on his head. You pet his ear to put him at ease, watching as Ahsoka starts to lead you to a clearing in the Corvus forest. Before you follow, Din nods towards Grogu, tilting his helmet as he looks at you. “Can I…?” he trails off, his gloved hands reaching for Grogu. You nod as you give him Grogu, trying not to let your heart ache at the thought of Din wanting to remain as close to his son as possible. He’s likely had the same thought as you—and now, he’s treasuring each moment he has left with his foundling.

You follow Ahsoka until she stops in front of a large stone. She drops her cloak and turns to where Grogu’s sitting rather anxiously in Din’s arms, smiling at him in a reassuring manner as she addresses him. “Let’s see what knowledge is lurking inside that little mind.” She taps Grogu’s head with her finger, making him coo with delight as he starts to relax. Ahsoka looks to Din and then gestures to the stone, causing him to nod before he gently sits Grogu down on the stone. He gives Grogu’s back a few taps of encouragement, making Grogu coo with a small raise of his ears. Din then encourages you to do the same on a stone just off to the side from where Grogu’s is, taking your hand and helping you down. You shake your head with a small smile on your lips at Din’s neverending chivalry.

Ahsoka bends down to take a smaller stone in her hand. When she stands, she keeps herself across from the place where Grogu sits, keeping a smile on her face as she starts to extend her hand towards Grogu. She shows him the stone and Grogu’s head tilts in curiosity. You and Din then watch in amazement as she turns the stone in her hand, using her powers—the  _ Force _ —to push it towards Grogu. He reaches his little hands out to catch it, looking at the stone as if it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. You smile, gently resting your head against Din’s hip as his gloved hand runs over your head. You can hear the leather on his other hand tighten as he pulls it into a fist, evidently stressed about Grogu’s training.

“Now, return the stone to me, Grogu,” Ahsoka commands softly, reaching her hand back out as she looks at Grogu. Anxiously, Grogu plays with the stone in his hands, his ears rising and falling as he looks at her with guilt and fear. Your heart sinks, especially as Din’s fist only tightens at his side.

“He doesn’t understand,” Din interjects, his modulated voice tight with concern for his son.

“He does,” Ahsoka insists, looking from Din back to Grogu. The baby just looks back down at the stone, whining softly as he continues to hold on to the stone. “It’s okay.” Her words earn Grogu’s gaze again. “The stone, Grogu.” The baby looks nervously to Din, who uses his helmet to gesture towards Ahsoka. Grogu then looks down and lets the stone fall, his ears drooped nearly to his sides.

Din sighs with mixed frustration and concern. You release a soft breath, taking Din’s hand from your head and hold it between both your hands. Your head remains against his hip as an anchor of sorts, something to soothe him as he nervously watches his son openly try to use his powers for the first time. His weight shifts nervously when Ahsoka walks towards Grogu, though he’s mindful of your head against him.

Ahsoka kneels in front of Grogu, taking one of his tiny hands in hers and closing her eyes. She bows her head, appearing focused before she speaks gently. “I sense much fear in you,” she observes, reopening her eyes to see Grogu looking up at her as he babbles something. He appears to tell her something before she reaches for the stone, picking it back up and letting his hand go. Ahsoka returns to her place across from Grogu, speaking to you and Din as she does so. “He’s hidden his abilities to survive over the years.” You can feel Din’s fingers tighten against yours, causing you to brush your thumbs over his hand in an attempt to comfort him. His helmet looks towards Grogu, who returns his father’s look with the desperation of a scared child. “Let’s try something else. Come over here.”

Once again, Din gestures with his helmet towards Ahsoka. Grogu’s ears fall along with his gaze as he seemingly pouts, causing Din to hold a breath as he gives his helmet a shake. “He’s stubborn,” Din insists.

“Not him,” Ahsoka says, lifting her brow. “ _ You _ .” Din looks over at her with surprise and you do the same. You lift your head from his hip to allow him to move. “I want to see if he’ll listen to you.”

You drop your hands from Din’s to let him walk over to where Ahsoka is, listening as he scoffs in a playful manner. “That would be a first,” Din half-jokes, making you snort as you wrap your arms around yourself and look between your husband and your son nervously.

“I like firsts,” Ahsoka remarks with amusement. “Good or bad, they’re always memorable.” She then hands Din the stone, helping him to get into the right position. “Now, hold the stone out in the palm of your hand.” Once Din’s set, she continues with her instructions. “Tell him to lift it up.”

Din shifts his weight again—but you can tell it’s because of his nerves, not his desire to be in the correct position. You bite your lip as you listen to him speak. “All right, kid.” Din’s gone almost completely void of his usual affection for the child, as if he’s afraid of being so transparent with him in a training setting. “Lift the stone.”

Ahsoka leans closer to Din, raising an eyebrow. “ _ Grogu _ .” She smirks as she walks off to where you sit, nodding at you in a reassuring manner. You return the gesture, watching as Din’s fingers on his free hand flutter in a nervous manner. He looks down and shifts his weight yet again.

“Grogu,” Din calls for his son, causing the little one to coo with delight as he looks at his father. “Come on, take the stone.” Grogu’s ears fall again as he looks down, a whimper escaping his lips as he avoids his father’s gaze. Din’s frustration is evident as he looks at Ahsoka again. “You see? I told you, he’s  _ stubborn _ .” He then throws the stone on the ground behind him.

“Just like his father,” you mutter, making Ahsoka chuckle as she faces Din.

“Try to connect with him,” Ahsoka insists.

Din’s helmet looks back to Grogu, who looks up at his father with his usual curiosity. Din shifts his weight and takes a deep breath, letting his shoulders rise and fall as he and Grogu share a meaningful gaze. You watch as Din suddenly reaches his fingers into the pouch on his belt, pulling out the metal sphere that Grogu had taken from the  _ Crest  _ during your landing on Corvus. Din turns it over in his gloved fingers, looking from the sphere to Grogu as he holds it out to him. “Grogu,” Din says, making the baby coo both at the mention of his name and at the sight of the metal sphere. Din starts to kneel down closer to the ground as Grogu lifts his hand up. “Do you want  _ this? _ ”

Din holds the sphere between his forefinger and thumb, making Grogu tilt his head as he coos with interest.

“Well, go ahead. That’s right, take it.”

Grogu coos, lifting his hand even more towards the sphere. You can feel the hope practically burning your chest as you lean forward more, staring intently between the two members of your family.

“Come on. You can have it.”

Grogu’s eyes start to narrow in focus as his hand shakes. Your arms tighten around yourself as you whisper beneath your breath. “You can do this, Grogu,” you quietly encourage him.

“Come on,” Din encourages one more time.

That’s all it takes for Grogu to finally seize the sphere from Din’s hand, pulling it towards himself in a rapid motion. A large smile appears on your lips as you loosen your hold on yourself, your chest flooding with relief as Din moves to stand up again.

“Good job!” Din praises Grogu excitedly. “Good job, kid!” He looks over at you and Ahsoka with nothing but pure joy. “You see that?” You beam, listening to the pride Din reveals in his voice—as if his son’s just done the most wonderful thing imaginable. “That’s right,” Din directs his words towards Grogu again, kneeling in front of him to gently take the sphere from his hand. “I knew you could do it.  _ Very  _ good.”

“He’s formed a strong attachment to you,” Ahsoka observes, causing both Din and you to look at her. You wrinkle your brow, remembering how she told you about Grogu’s love for you and seeing you both as parents.  _ Why is she just saying that now? Wasn’t it obvious before?  _ It seems, however, to concern her more now than it did before—and you’re afraid that you won’t like the reason why. Ahsoka shakes her head and looks at her feet. “I cannot train him.”

Before you even have a chance to react, Din does first. “ _ What? _ ” he nearly seethes, immediately standing from his place in front of Grogu as he makes his way over to Ahsoka. “Why not? You’ve seen what he can do.”

You start to stand as Ahsoka heads for her cloak, pulling it back over her shoulders as she avoids Din’s gaze. “His attachment to you— _ both  _ of you—makes him vulnerable to his fears,” Ahsoka explains, concern evident in her tone as she faces Din. You’ve since joined him at his side, crossing your arms in mixed frustration and worry. “His  _ anger _ .”

“All the more reason to train him,” Din argues, gesturing with his hand towards Grogu’s place on the stone.

“ _ No _ .” Ahsoka’s word is firm as she steps closer to the two of you, her gaze piercing yours as she goes on. “I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a  _ fully trained  _ Jedi Knight.” She pauses, as if she’s rewatching a horrifying memory. “To the  _ best  _ of us.”

You can hear the breath Din takes at that, his helmet falling slightly as he thinks on her words. Your gaze looks towards Grogu, who’s sitting nervously on the stone with his chin tucked into his chest. With a sympathetic frown, you make your way over to him and pick him up, letting him nestle his way against your shoulder as you walk back over to Din.

“I will not start this child down that path,” Ahsoka goes on, looking at Grogu with worry etched in her features. He coos sadly, causing you to run a reassuring hand over his head. “Better to let his abilities fade.” She tightens her cloak on her shoulders, turning and beginning to walk away from you. “I’ve delayed too long. I must get back to the village.”

Grogu whines as he watches her go, making you look desperately up at Din. He sighs, tightening his hands into fists at his sides before he speaks up. “The Magistrate sent me—sent _us_ —to kill you.” Ahsoka stops in her tracks, turning your blood to ice as she slowly turns to face you again. You swallow hard, hoping Din has a plan to keep this Jedi from attacking the three of you. “We didn’t agree to anything. And I’ll help you with your problem—,” you look over at Din upon his use of “I” rather than “we,” “if you see to it that Grogu is properly trained.”

Ahsoka looks from Din to Grogu, watching as he coos at her in a pleading manner. She then looks back at Din, nodding as she steps forward. “All right. But we don’t have much time.”

Din nods. “I understand. May I just get my family back to the ship?”

You see Ahsoka nod before you look up at Din again, your eyes narrowed at him. “What do you mean, the  _ ship? _ ” you nearly hiss. “I’m coming with—.”

“ _ No _ ,  _ cyar’ika _ , you cannot.” Din turns completely towards you, gesturing with his helmet to your stomach. “I told you, no more adventures.”

You scoff and raise an eyebrow. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” Din then sighs, lifting one of his hands to caress your cheek. “ _ Ner kar’ta _ , I’ve just… we’ve let you two go through too much already without even knowing it, and I’m sorry, but I can’t put either one of you at risk again— _ or  _ Grogu. You need all the rest you can get.” Before you can protest, Din continues. “I’ll be working with a Jedi,  _ rid’ika _ . I’m sure everything will run smoothly.”

Finally, with a heavy sigh, you nod at him. “Okay. We’ll go back to the ship.”

Din nods, looking back at Ahsoka for a moment. “Can I… meet you out here again?” Ahsoka simply nods in response. That’s enough to satisfy Din as he turns back to you, pressing a hand along your lower back as he guides you and Grogu back to the  _ Crest _ .

The walk back to the ship is full of silence, not a single word being passed between the three of you even though you can practically hear the gears of your minds turning. The implications of what Din’s about to do are hitting you at the same time as the reality of having to say goodbye to Grogu once Din follows through with this deal. You try to keep it all within you for now, not wanting to give Din a reason to back out of his deal with Ahsoka as the  _ Crest  _ soon comes into sight.

You both ascend the hatch into the hull and immediately, Din breaks the silence. “I’m sorry,  _ rid’ika _ . I mean it.” He lets you put Grogu into his hammock before he places his gloved hands upon your cheeks, keeping you close to him and his visor. “I know I promised I wouldn’t leave you, and I  _ won’t _ , but I just can’t—.”

“Din, you don’t need to apologize.” Your voice is soft as you manage to smile at him, placing your hand over one of his. The other rests upon his cuirass. “I understand. You’re just doing what’s best for your clan.” You glance down at your stomach for a moment as you smile more. “That includes more than just Grogu and I, now. I can’t be selfish.” When you look back up at Din, you rest your forehead upon his helmet, grimacing slightly as you peer through his visor. “Just,  _ please _ … be careful. I mean it this time. No getting swallowed by dragons, or throwing yourself in front of a heavy-repeating blaster, or anything crazy like that.”

Din chuckles. “Don’t worry about that,  _ ner kar’ta _ . I’m sure Ahsoka will be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”

You nod, sighing softly as you close your eyes. “Stay safe. Don’t leave our children fatherless.”

You can picture Din’s frown as he runs his thumbs over your cheeks. “Never,  _ cyar’ika _ .  _ Never _ .” Your eyes reopen to meet his visor, feeling his hands move from your face to your waist. “ _ Ori’haat _ .” He gets you to smile at that, and when he uses a hand to lift his helmet just enough on his head to reveal his mouth, you see his smile too. Din kisses you softly yet passionately, causing you to instinctively press yourself against him before he pulls away regretfully. “I love you,  _ rid’ika _ . I’ll be back soon, okay? Please try to rest.”

“I love you too. I’ll try.”

Din nods, pressing his helmet to your forehead one more time before he turns away from you. He takes his jetpack and slings it over his shoulders, securing it in place before he walks down the hatch. You watch him go, your hands anxiously playing with each other as he walks off to meet with Ahsoka again. Once he disappears from sight, you close the hatch, making your way up to the controls in the cockpit to engage ground security protocols. A sudden wave of exhaustion hits you as you make your way to your compartment, laying down in the bed you share with Din as you breathe in his scent on the pillows and the sheets. It’s enough to ease your anxious mind to sleep, though the rest is nowhere near as peaceful as it feels when Din’s right beside you.

When you wake up, Din still hasn’t returned. You try not to worry, knowing the stress won’t be good for the baby. Instead, you make your way back down to the hull, arranging a small meal for yourself after you check in on Grogu. He’s still peacefully asleep, and you let him keep sleeping as you eat. Once you’ve finished with that, you begin to anxiously clean the hull, knowing it’s in desperate need of it after the way it’s been treated over the past few days.

This keeps you busy until you hear Din’s signature knock on the outside of the  _ Crest _ , making you smile wide as you hurry to disengage the ground security protocols. By the time you’ve gotten back to the hull, Din’s already made his way back up the hatch, stepping inside the hull as he sets aside the beskar spear he’d been offered by the Magistrate before. You smile to yourself, assisting him with his jetpack as he thanks you quietly. While you’re relieved at the sight of him, you can sense the tension rolling off of him in waves, making you grimace as you face him.

“What is it, Din?” you question, furrowing your brow as you search him for wounds. “Did something go wrong?”

“No,  _ cyar’ika _ , not at all,” Din assures you, setting his gloved hands upon your shoulders. He releases a sigh as his visor tilts towards the ground. “It’s… It’s just time to… say goodbye.” You can hear the emotional strain in his voice even through the modulator, making your heart ache.

Your hands meet the sides of his helmet, though you don’t dare to lift it yet. “Is Ahsoka waiting for him?” Din nods. You twist your lips, reaching for his vambrace as you use it to close the hatch. You then ease his helmet off his head, setting it aside as you hold his face between your hands, watching Din’s gaze avert yours as he tries to blink away the tears that brim his waterline. Gently, you call for him, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks to soothe him. “Din.” His gaze finally meets yours, a heavy breath sitting in his chest. “It’s  _ okay  _ to feel this way.” You pause, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you whisper your next words near his ear. “I’ll leave you two alone for a little while.”

Din nods, his gaze expressing the gratitude you know his words can’t. You ignore the ache you feel in your own chest for the goodbye you’ll have to exchange with Grogu, but for now, you let Din have the time he needs with his son. You start to walk towards the ladder as Din heads to Grogu’s compartment. You stop and turn when you hear it open, watching as Din gently sets a gloved hand on Grogu’s hammock. “Wake up, buddy,” Din urges him softly, his voice low and on the verge of breaking as he softly rocks the hammock. “It’s… time to say goodbye.”

Your heart practically shatters at the sound of Din’s grieved voice, yet you force yourself to ascend the ladder and allow him to have a private moment with Grogu. For a while, you simply sit in the pilot’s seat, staring out of the transparisteel of the  _ Crest  _ and into the surrounding wood of Corvus. You hope this won’t be the planet where Grogu will have to stay; it’s much too grim for your lighthearted son. He’ll need a place that matches his energy, much like Sorgan once did. You smile at the thought of him chasing frogs and playing with his friends—and that makes the thought of him having to be alone as he spends his days working and training even more painful.

After a long time spent reflecting, you find yourself struggling to keep your own tears back, and so you decide to check in on Din and Grogu. You leave the cockpit in a quiet manner, making your way down the ladder slowly as you try not to startle your husband and son. When you turn around, you see them sitting in Grogu’s compartment, with Grogu settled on Din’s lap as they sit quietly and hold hands. Your heart aches when you notice the silent tears streaking down Din’s cheeks, along with Grogu’s painfully half-closed eyes.

“ _ Riduur _ ,” you call gently for Din, causing his gaze to land on you as you approach them. “We should—.”

“I shouldn’t have let this happen,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din begins to lament, barely keeping his voice even as he gently sets Grogu down on the cot in the compartment. He stands up to face you, his brown eyes full of distress as he pours his heart out to you. “I shouldn’t have let him  _ or  _ myself get close to each other. All it did was hurt us. If I hadn’t, I could’ve… Grogu could’ve gotten training more easily. It’s my fault,  _ cyar’ika _ . And now, I’ve made it painful for us to do what we have to, and I—.”

“Din.  _ K’uur _ .” You’re gentle yet firm as you cut him short, wiping his tears away with your thumbs as Din leans desperately into your touch. “There was nothing wrong with you being his father.  _ Nothing.  _ Don’t you remember what the Armorer said?” Din simply blinks at you, waiting for you to go on. “‘You are as its father.’ That’s what she said.” You smile in a bittersweet manner at Din. “And that’s  _ exactly  _ what you did—and you did a damn good job at it.”

Din chuckles at that, resting his forehead against yours as he releases a soft breath. “Thank you.”

You kiss his nose. “There’s no need.” You pause, making sure that Din’s looking you in the eye as you continue. “Grogu will  _ always  _ see you as his father, and our child will always see him as their older brother. This will never change that.”

Din smiles more at that, even closing the gap between the two of you as he kisses you. When you break away, he adds another kiss to your forehead, looking much more at ease when his gaze meets yours again. “I can’t thank you enough,  _ ner kar’ta _ , for the strength you bring to our clan.” He clears his throat before he goes on. “You can say goodbye while I get my helmet back on. Then, we’ll meet up with Ahsoka.”

You nod, releasing a breath as you step around Din to walk towards Grogu. He coos softly as he looks up at you, his dark eyes sparkling with sadness already. You pick him up in your arms, pressing a kiss on his forehead as he giggles. You laugh with him, blinking away your tears as you insist upon staying strong for him. “You’re gonna be an amazing Jedi, Grogu,” you murmur, brushing your hand along one of his ears as he coos happily up at you. “I know you’ll make us  _ so  _ proud.” You tap his nose with your finger to make him laugh more. “After your training, you can use your power to help us keep your little sibling safe, right?”

Grogu coos loudly at that, reaching his little hands out to touch your stomach. You find it even harder now to keep your tears away and you bite your lip in your effort to keep your emotions at bay. Grogu’s forehead presses against your stomach as he coos again, looking up at you with his awkward yet adorable smile.

“They’re counting on you, little one,” you whisper, lifting him to kiss his forehead again. With a deep breath, you turn towards Din, nodding as you hand Grogu off to him. Din slowly looks from Grogu to you, his helmet tilting to the side as he comes closer to you.

“Are you okay,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din questions softly, keeping Grogu tucked into the crook of his elbow.

You smile in a bittersweet manner, leaning your head on Din’s shoulder as you look up at him. “Ask me again later,” you murmur.

Din nods, seemingly understanding what you’re saying as he takes a deep breath. He lowers the hatch and turns around, taking you and Grogu with him as he starts to head outside. Immediately, Grogu begins to whine and cry with dismay, his little claws gripping at the cloth beneath Din’s armor as he walks closer and closer to the ramp. You cringe at the sound, trying with all your might not to react on the outside as a familiar voice suddenly takes you all by surprise.

“You’re like a father to him,” Ahsoka says, causing both you and Din to stop in your tracks as you look at her. She then nods towards you. “And you’re like a mother.” After he’s recovered from the shock of Ahsoka’s close presence, Din continues forward, and you go with him. “I cannot train him.”

Din holds his breath, letting one arm fall to his side as he keeps Grogu tight in the other. “You made me a promise,” Din reminds her, “and I held up my end.”

Ahsoka sighs gently, walking closer until she’s able to reach out towards Grogu. She takes her hand and joins it with one of Grogu’s, looking up at the two of you as she speaks again. “There is one possibility,” Ahsoka informs you. “Go to the planet Tython. You will find the ancient ruins of a temple that has a strong connection to the Force.” She looks back down at Grogu, smiling a bit before she continues. “Place Grogu on the seeing stone at the top of the mountain.”

Din tilts his helmet at Ahsoka. “Then what?”

“Then Grogu may choose his path,” Ahsoka answers. She releases his hand as Grogu looks up at her with what you read to be gratitude. “If he reaches out through the Force, there’s a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him.” Din straightens his helmet out as you subconsciously take his free hand in your grasp. Din easily laces his fingers through yours, waiting as Ahsoka goes on. “Then again… there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Grogu looks sadly at Ahsoka, who simply gives him a reassuring smile in response. Din looks down at Grogu and you can sense his relief at getting to keep him for at least a little bit longer. “Thank you,” he says, his modulated voice slightly strained as he speaks.

“Truly,” you add, smiling as you nod at Ahsoka. “Not just for your wisdom, but for everything you communicated. You represent your people well.”

Ahsoka smiles at you, nodding as she looks between both you and Din. “May the Force be with you,” she says. Din simply returns the nod before he starts to turn, taking you and Grogu with him as you ascend your way back into the  _ Crest _ . You can hear Grogu cooing over Din’s shoulder, and when you look back, you find Ahsoka smiling at him. This causes you to smile to yourself, resting your head against Din’s shoulder again as you relish in the extended time you get to have with your family.

Though you know Grogu will have to go back to his people soon, no matter how much you delay, you at least allow yourself the luxury to enjoy the time you and Din get to spend with your adopted son—completely unaware of who else is eager to spend time with the little one you’d do anything to protect.


	38. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clan Djarin lands on Tython—and falls right into the trap set by their most feared enemy.

“Grogu.”

You slow your movements as you step up from the ladder and into the doorway of the cockpit, listening as Din calls for his son. You can see Din swiveled around in his chair as he looks at Grogu, who’s got the metal sphere in his tiny claws. Upon hearing his father say his name, Grogu looks away from the sphere, cooing as he glances at his father with excitement. Din chuckles softly, making you smile as you cross your arms and lean against the threshold.

Grogu looks back down at the sphere, but you can sense the mixed amusement and adoration coming from Din as he continues looking at Grogu. “ _ Grogu. _ ”

Once again, Grogu looks up at Din. His reaction’s even faster this time as his ears rise high on his head. Din chuckles softer this time, taking a breath as he reaches his arm forward.

“Give me the ball,” Din commands in a gentle manner. When Din opens his gloved hand to Grogu, the baby tries to hide the sphere off to the side, grunting at his father in disapproval. Din tilts his helmet at his son. “Grogu, give me the ball.” Still, Grogu keeps his hold on the ball, only slowly starting to move it again as he looks down at it. “Come on.” Reluctantly, Grogu grunts and hands the sphere off to Din, who takes it into his gloved fingers and holds it the same way he did on Corvus. “Okay, here we go.” Grogu squeals, tilting his head at his father. “You can have it, just like before.”

Grogu gently starts to lift a hand up towards the ball. His eyes fall closed in focus and you can feel your heart beating just as quickly as it did on Corvus.

“Grogu, come on. You can have it.”

Both of Grogu’s hands start to reach out for the sphere now as he tries to take it from Din. One of your arms wraps around your body as the other picks nervously at the collar of your shirt. You try to feel relaxed by the sheer excitement that radiates from Din.

“Come on.”

Finally, Grogu takes the ball from Din’s fingers, holding it between his hands as he lets out a few coos of joy. You smile wide to yourself as Din likely does the same beneath his helmet.

“ _ Dank farrik! _ ” Din exclaims in a happy manner, slapping his cuisse as he spins back around in his chair. You giggle at the gesture but quickly stop when you hear Grogu coo sadly. He nearly throws the ball down into his lap—looking as if he’s horrified at whatever reaction he’s just earned from his father. You start to step forward, instinctively wanting to comfort him, but Din beats you to it. “Hey, no, I’m not mad at you! You did  _ good _ .” Grogu looks up at Din with concern, and you watch as Din faces him again. “I just…” Din pauses and you can tell his modulated voice is losing its strength, “When the nice lady said you had training, I just…”

Din trails off. Grogu’s ears start to fall in worry as he looks at his father for clarification. You know Din won’t be able to provide it. You feel another urge to comfort both your boys, but you hold yourself back, not wanting to intrude on the moment Din’s having with his son.

With a sigh, Din reaches out to Grogu, taking the metal sphere from his lap and handing it to him. Grogu takes it with a quiet yet happy coo as Din leans back in his chair. “You’re… very special, kid.” Din’s voice is more tense than before, making you cover your hand with your mouth as you instead let him continue. Grogu coos before he adds more. “We’re gonna find that place you belong and they’re gonna take real good care of you.”

Din spins back around in the chair as he speaks, the evident sadness in his voice sending a shockwave of hurt through your heart as you whimper to yourself. “Din,” you whisper under your breath. Grogu also babbles something at his father, as if he’s attempting to comfort him as well. Din simply clicks around a few of the controls, waiting a few beats before he speaks again.

“This is Tython,” he announces. There’s no true enthusiasm in his voice like before—instead, he sounds dull, as if he’d rather stay as far away from Tython as possible. “That’s where we’re gonna try and find you a Jedi.” Grogu grunts at that, as if he’s trying to deny his father’s words. Your heart only hurts more at the way Grogu seems to despise the thought of leaving you two. “But you  _ have  _ to agree to go with them if they want you to.” Din pauses and turns his helmet over his shoulder to look at Grogu. “Understand?”

Grogu just snorts and looks down at the sphere in his hands again. You hold back a sigh, crossing both your arms over your chest as you continue to watch them.

“Plus,  _ I  _ can’t train you—and neither can… she.” You wonder if Din neglects to use the term “mother” for fear of deepening Grogu’s attachment to you, though you know it’s pointless now after everything you’ve been through together. “You’re too…  _ powerful _ . Don’t you wanna learn more of that Jedi stuff?”

Grogu grunts again, looking down at the ball almost as if it’s his distraction from Din’s words. Din keeps pressing around the controls as his mind and mouth keep running.

“I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do.” You know these words are more for Din’s reassurance than Grogu’s. The thought of it makes you frown harshly to yourself as you start to give in to your urge to comfort him. “You understand… right?”

Grogu looks up almost sadly at the back of his father’s chair and the silence that ensues is taken as your cue to step in. You walk ahead as if you’ve just arrived to the cockpit, catching Grogu’s attention first as he coos at you with delight. With a smile, you reach down to pet his ear, listening to him giggle before you turn to Din. He’s still facing forward as he navigates the  _ Crest  _ closer to the surface of Tython, causing you to twist your lips as you set your hands upon the back of his chair. “I’m assuming we’ve arrived,” you say, keeping your voice soft so you don’t startle him.

“Yeah.” Din keeps the  _ Crest  _ on course, his gloved hands tightening on the joysticks. He doesn’t say anything else, making you sigh as you kneel beside his chair.

“Din.” Your call for him is firm yet sympathetic, earning you his attention as his helmet turns towards you. One of your hands rests on his cuisse in an attempt to comfort him. “I know this is hard—trust me, I do—and it’s okay to be upset.” You quickly look back at Grogu, who’s still staring at the metal sphere in his hands. “But at least we get a little more time with him.” You then look back at Din, running your thumb over the beskar on his thigh. “And you’re not alone in this. You have me.” You smile at him as you place your free hand over your stomach. “You have  _ us _ .”

Din frees a hand from a joystick to reach for your cheek, urging you to stand back up and press your forehead against his. You close your eyes as you absorb the touch, feeling his gloved fingers brush over your face as he releases a heavy breath from his chest. “Thank you,  _ cyar’ika _ .” His voice is hushed even through the modulator, causing you to reopen your eyes as you beam at him. “I… feel as if you’ve had to do a lot of the comforting lately. I’m sorry I—.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you cut him off, chuckling as you run your hand over the ridge of his beskar cheek. “What did I vow to you, Din, the day we were wed?”

Din’s thumb brushes over the skin underneath your eye. “ _ Mhi solus tome _ .”

You nod. “We are one when together.”

“ _ Mhi solus dar'tome _ .”

“We are one when parted.”

“ _ Mhi me'dinui an _ .”

“We share all.”

“ _ Mhi ba'juri verde _ .”

“We will raise warriors.” You smile again as you press a gentle kiss to the center of Din’s visor. “If we’re one when together  _ and  _ parted, then I don’t need you apologizing when I comfort you, because you’d do the same for me. It’s my duty as your  _ riduur  _ to make you feel at ease. We share  _ everything _ —and we’ve raised a warrior, just as we’ll do with our warrior soon to come.”

You can sense Din’s smile as the tips of his gloved fingers trail down your neck. “ _ Cuun verd’ika _ .”  _ Our little warrior _ .

“That’s right,” you agree with a soft chuckle.

Din releases a soft sigh, lifting his helmet just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he breathes, letting the words float over your mouth as he kisses you again. “I wish I had the proper words for it.”

“I already know, Din,” you assure him, kissing him once more. “I love you, too.” You encourage him to release his helmet and let it fall over his face again. “But if we keep this up, we’ll gross Grogu out—and you’ll crash the ship.”

Din chuckles at that, nodding as he lets you step away. He faces forward again and holds the joysticks with both his hands. You take your place in the other passenger seat, watching as the surface of Tython comes into full view. The planet is full of rocky green hills and mountains, which you know will make it quite difficult for Din to find the mountain Ahsoka had spoken of. After a few minutes of flying, Din speaks and slows down the  _ Crest _ . “Looks like that’s the magic rock we’re supposed to take you to down there,” Din says, looking over at Grogu.

The baby looks down at the sphere in his hand and grunts, as if he’s completely disinterested in the seeing stone. You scoff to yourself, shaking your head at the stubbornness he must’ve gotten from his father. When Din starts to circle the  _ Crest  _ around the mountain, you hold on tight to the back of his chair, hearing Grogu coo at the sharper angle of the ship. Eventually, Din releases a soft sigh.

“Sorry,  _ ner aliit _ ,” Din apologizes as he levels the ship out. “I can’t land on the top. It’s too small.” Din reaches up to one of the controls before he continues. “We’re gonna have to travel the last stretch with the windows down.”

You wrinkle your brow at his words, trying to get at what he’s saying. When Din lands the  _ Crest  _ onto the ground farther away from the mountain and heads down to the hull to grab his jetpack, you finally understand, placing the metal sphere back on its lever and taking Grogu in your arms as you make your way out of the ship. While Din finishes getting his jetpack on, you turn and look over the  _ Crest _ , admiring her beautiful silhouette against the blue shade of the Tython sky. She’s been your home for a while, now, and while she’s a bit rough around the edges, she’s also held some of your greatest memories with your family. A wave of gratitude rolls over you as you watch Din walk down the hatch, approaching you and Grogu with a nod of his helmet.

“Are you two ready to fly?” Din asks softly. You nod, looking down as Grogu coos his agreement. Din then steps forward to wrap his arms around you from behind, taking off only when he’s sure he’s got a secure hold on you. You keep Grogu pressed tight against you, listening as he whoops with joy. You laugh, closing your eyes as you remember the last time you all flew like this—after you thought you’d defeated Moff Gideon.

You can only pray to the Maker that he’s not close on your trail.

Din soons land with the two of you gracefully, pausing to look around as he releases his hold on you. Grogu coos in your arms, reaching towards Din. You smile and hand him off to his father, taking the time to also look around. There’s a large stone that sits in the middle of a circle of slanted slabs, which cave in towards the stone. You don’t get the chance to observe much more before Din walks forward. You follow him closely.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Din says, nodding towards the stone in the center of the slabs. He steps towards it cautiously, still looking around as if he’s expecting something to jump out. “Does this look… Jedi to you?” You snort and shake your head at Din, instantly earning his attention. “What,  _ rid’ika? _ ”

“Nothing, Din,” you assure him with a soft chuckle. “Just… keep going.”

Din also chuckles as he looks down at Grogu, approaching the stone and studying it for a long moment. “I guess you sit right here,” Din tells his son, reaching out to set him down on top of the seeing stone. The size of it makes Grogu look even smaller than he is, causing you to smile as Din continues to worry over his son. “Okay. Here we go.”

Grogu simply continues to sit there as he coos, tilting his head and looking between the two of you. Din looks at you and you shrug, watching as his helmet turns back to Grogu.

“This is the seeing stone, are you seeing anything?” Din’s gloved hands gesture to the stone as he looks out from the mountain, evidently confused. Grogu coos as Din turns around. “Or are they supposed to see you?”

“Maybe we just have to wait, Din,” you suggest, watching as Din lifts a gloved hand to reach his heat sensor.

“Maybe there’s some kind of control or something.” Din’s still insistent upon doing whatever he can to help Grogu, making you cross your arms as you watch him circle around the stone. He walks all the way around until he stops again, watching as Grogu reaches for a blue butterfly that’s flying around him. You can sense Din’s frustration as he fidgets in place, but before you can offer reassurance, he sighs and speaks. “Oh, come on, kid. Ahsoka told us that all we had to do was get you here and  _ you’d  _ do the rest.”

Grogu coos and tilts his helmet at Din, his eyes almost looking apologetic as he lets the butterfly go. You’re about to reprimand Din, but you cut yourself off when you hear the sound of a ship approaching. You and Din both lift your gazes as you spot an unfamiliar ship flying into the atmosphere, causing a cold chill to run through your spine as you and Din exchange a concerned glance. He nods at you, encouraging you to stay with Grogu as he jogs to the edge of the mountain. You stay close to the seeing stone but keep your back to it, watching Din observe the ship as it lands.

You’re already sick with worry as you face Grogu—just to see that he’s trapped within a blue Force-field, his eyes closed in concentration and his hands folded in a meditating position.

“Din!” you call for him, letting your concern show as you take a few steps away from the blue light.

“Time’s up!” Din exclaims, starting to turn around from where he’s been standing. “We gotta get out of here—!” Din freezes beside you when he also observes the Force-field, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he watches Grogu meditate. You look over at Din, seeing how rigid he’s gone at the idea of Grogu being trapped here with a stranger so close by. “We don’t have time for this,” Din tries to tell his son. He walks towards the Force-field. “We  _ gotta _ get—.”

“Din, don’t!” you try to warn him, starting to reach for his arm.

You’re too late. As soon as Din reaches for Grogu through the Force-field, he’s thrown backwards, causing you to exclaim his name again as he rolls over on the ground. You hurry to his side and help him to stand up, unable to keep him calm as his panic continues to show.

“Hey!” Din yells at Grogu. “Snap out of it, kid!”

“He  _ can’t _ ,” you insist, keeping a hold on one of his gloved hands.

Still, Din looks around anxiously, looking at his son again as he goes on. “We gotta get out of here!”

“ _ Din _ ,” you urge as he turns his helmet towards the ship again, using his free hand to turn on his heat sensor. “He can’t hear us. We have to let him do what he needs to.”

With a heavy breath, Din releases your hand, drawing his blaster as he looks at you. “I’ll see if I can buy him some time. Stay up here with him—it’s safer here.”

You start to draw your blaster, trying to ignore the worry in your chest as you nod at him. “All right. But,  _ please _ —.”

“I’ll be careful,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din assures you, quickly giving you a keldabe kiss before he steps away from you. You watch as he descends his way from the mountain, causing you to sigh as you turn to face Grogu. You’re not sure what faces Din at the bottom of this mountain, but you hope that whoever or whatever it is, he can get rid of the threat quickly.

Meanwhile, Din tries to stay as quiet as possible when he makes his way down to the stranger he’d spotted, dodging the rocks and patches of grass as he goes. He finds himself slightly out in the open when he’s suddenly faced with the rapid firing of a blaster. Din curses under his breath as he seeks refuge behind a stone, holding his blaster close to his cuirass as he waits for it to pass. He waits a few beats before he dares to peer his helmet out from around the stone, taking his blaster with him as he tries to find the perpetrator.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian,” a man’s voice says, causing Din to wrinkle his brow beneath his helmet as he ducks back behind the stone. When there’s no more blaster fire, Din dares to look again, seeing a man standing there with a black robe pulled over his head. He has two weapons strapped onto his back—a rifle of some sorts and a fighting stick—so Din decides to fully step out from around the stone.

“Are you Jedi?” Din questions, likening his appearance to that of Ahsoka’s. When the man doesn’t answer, Din thinks of the other option, keeping his gloved finger flexed on his trigger. “Or are you after the child?”

After a long moment, the man lowers his hood, stepping forward and closer into Din’s view. His head is bare and scarred, as if he’s been badly burned. Din grimaces, taking a deep breath as the man keeps walking towards Din. “I’m here for the armor.”

Din narrows his eyes and tightens his hold on his blaster. “If you want my armor, you’ll have to peel it off my dead body.” He knows that if you heard him say such a thing, you’d instantly challenge him, but he has to try to stand his ground for the sake of the two— _ three _ —of you he’s left on the mountain.

The man stops, keeping his face straight as he doesn’t move even a single muscle. “I don’t want  _ your  _ armor. I want  _ my  _ armor that you got from Cobb Vanth back on Tatooine.” Din takes a breath, watching as the man narrows his eyes. “It belongs to  _ me _ .”

“Are you Mandalorian?”

“I’m a simple man making his way through the galaxy—like my father before me.”

Din holds back a sigh. “Did you take the Creed?”

“I give my allegiance to  _ no one _ .”

Din frowns. “The beskar belongs to the Mandalorians. It was looted from us during the Purge.”

“The armor was my father’s. Now it’s mine.”

Din’s fully fed up now as he flexes his fingers on the trigger. “What’s to stop me from dropping you right where you stand?”

“Because I have a sharpshooter up on that ridge with a locked scope that will unload by the time my body hits the ground.”

“ _ I’m  _ the one wearing beskar. As soon as I see that muzzle flash, you’re  _ both  _ dead.”

“I didn’t mean she was going to shoot  _ you _ .” Din’s blood already starts to run cold as the man continues. “My friend’s locked onto that little companion of yours up on the henge—as well as their guardian.” Din turns to look, having to force his panic down at the idea of the two of you being targeted by this sharpshooter.

“And if you remember, I don’t miss.” The sudden voice causes a chill to run down Din’s spine as he searches for the source of it.  _ But, it can’t be—she was dead—? _

“ _ Fennec? _ ”

“You have a keen ear, Mando,” Fennec remarks.

Din looks between Fennec and the man standing across from him, shifting his weight as he tightens his grip on his blaster. “You point that gun away from my partner and the kid or I’ll drop you both where you stand.” He then flexes his wrist, engaging his whistling birds as an additional threat.

“Let’s all put down our weapons, have a chat,” the man insists, lifting his hands in a peaceful manner. “There’s no need for bloodshed.”

Din only raises his blaster more. “Tell her to drop the gun.”

“After you put down the jetpack.”

With a sigh, Din responds. “Same time.”

The man turns to Fennec, nodding in her direction. “Stand down.”

Din turns his helmet to watch as Fennec rises from her place on the ridge, taking her gun with her as she starts to head down. Only then does he disengage his whistling birds and reholster his blaster, watching as the man places down his cycler rifle onto the ground. Din also takes off his jetpack, resting it against the stone. Fennec then joins them with her helmet tucked into her side, causing Din to freeze up at the mystery of her presence. 

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Fennec remarks, raising her brow at Din.

“You were dead,” Din reminds her.

“She was left for dead on the sands of Tatooine,” the man explains, “as was I. But fate sometimes steps in to rescue the wretched.”

“In my case,” Fennec begins, pulling off the strip of fabric over the place where Toro had shot her, “Boba Fett was that fate.” Din observes the arrangement of metal parts that function as her organs. “And I am now in his service.”

Boba looks from Fennec to Din again, his expression stern as he speaks again. “I want my armor back.”

Din shakes his head in almost a helpless manner. “It goes against the Mandalorian Creed.”

“The armor was given to my father, Jango, by your forebears,” Boba informs Din. “In exchange, I guarantee the safety of the child, as well as your own.”

“The bounty on your little friend has risen significantly,” Fennec tells him. “You can buy ten suits of armor for the price on its head.” She then lifts her brow as she continues. “They’re offering quite a bit for the Princess of Arilia as well. She’s pretty valuable with all her past and present information.”

Din’s about to curse her out for mentioning his wife when Boba speaks instead. “I’d say we’re offering a fair deal under the circumstances.”

Before Din even has a chance to speak, he hears a ship flying overhead, yet another one that he doesn’t recognize. Immediately, Din pulls his blaster, running back towards you and Grogu as Boba and Fennec go the opposite direction. He doesn’t bother to think about anything or anyone else as he sprints up the mountain, hearing only his heavy breathing and the racing of his heart as he makes his way up to his family.

You hear the rustling of grass before you see anyone, causing you to lift your blaster as their figure looms over the edge. It’s then that you hear Din’s voice, seeing the outline of his helmet as he lunges forward.

“Time to go!” Din exclaims, holstering his blaster as he makes his way towards you and Grogu. He’s still meditating on the stone, causing you to shake your head as you also put your blaster away.

“He’s not ready yet!” you remark, wrinkling your brow as you look between Din and Grogu.

Din launches into action before you can stop him, pushing his way as hard as he can into Grogu’s Force-field. You make your way towards him, but before you can grab him, he’s already gotten his arms almost to Grogu. The Force is so strong that it throws Din back much farther than it did before, and even you trip back a few steps as you watch Din land hard and flip over onto his stomach.

You gasp as he remains unmoving, running over and kneeling down at his side. “ _ Din! _ ” You shove his shoulder with both your hands, feeling your blood turn to ice as he still doesn’t respond. “Din, please!”

When Din still doesn’t move, you look worriedly in Grogu’s direction, seeing him completely unfazed—as he has been ever since Din left. You at least manage to get Din rolled onto his back before you stand up on shaking legs, making your way over to Grogu as you plead to him.

“Grogu,  _ ad’ika _ , if you can hear me,” you call to him, “ _ please  _ stop! There’s Imperials here, we have to get you away from them!”

Grogu doesn’t show any signs of hearing you and the blue Force-field continues to keep you from getting to him. You let out an exclamation of mixed frustration and concern, returning to Din’s side as you take one of his gloved hands in yours. Your other hand brushes over the beskar of his helmet. If you weren’t out in the open with so many strangers nearby, you’d remove it to make sure he’s not bleeding underneath, but you refuse to risk breaking his Creed as you instead pray to the Maker for his healing.

After another minute or two, Din comes to, causing you to release a deep sigh of relief as he struggles to sit up. You help him, standing so that you can help him to do the same. “Din,” you breathe, giving his hand a squeeze. He looks away and uses his free hand to turn on his heat sensor. “I was  _ so  _ worried, I thought you were—.”

“That’s it, kid!” Din calls to Grogu, pulling his hand out of your grasp as he runs towards Grogu again. You sigh heavily, frowning as you follow him. “We gotta get out of here!”

He’s about to try to force his way through the field again, but you finally get to him first, grabbing him harshly by the shoulders and making him turn around to face you. “ _ Riduur _ , he is  _ not  _ going to hear us!” Your words are firm as you tighten your grasp on his shoulders. “You have to do what you can to keep holding them off. I’ll stay here with him.”

Din shakes his helmet. “I can’t—I  _ have  _ to try,  _ cyare _ ,” he insists, his modulated voice shaking with panic as he goes to turn around again.

“ _ No _ , Din,” you hiss, forcing him to remain in place. “It’s not only up to you to keep him safe. You’re only going to hurt yourself again. Imagine how Grogu would feel if he knew what he’s already done to you by accident.” Din’s visor falls at that, and you move your hands to the sides of his helmet as you rest it against your forehead. “The best way you can help him right now is to fight. I’ll do whatever I can for him up here.”

Din sighs, wrapping his hands around your wrists as he gives you a nod. “Okay.” He pulls you in closer to him, absorbing the touch before he goes. “Please,  _ rid’ika _ , call out for me if you need me.  _ Please _ .”

“I will.” You press a kiss to his beskar cheek. “Now go save the day, my love.”

Din chuckles at that, gently removing your hands from his helmet as he draws his blaster and starts to run off. “I’ll be back soon!”

“We’re counting on it!” you assure him, watching as he goes.

You’re about to take out your blaster again when you suddenly hear the Force-field fizzle out behind you. Quickly, you turn around to see that Grogu’s finished his meditating, causing you to run over to him as he falls tired onto his side.

“Grogu,” you coo to him, gently taking him into your arms. He remains asleep, his breaths coming softly as he rests against your shoulder. “You’re all right,  _ ad’ika _ .”

You look from Grogu to the edge of the mountain, realizing that you and Din are now free to go with Grogu—if you can push through the Imperials. You run as you try to see if Din’s still nearby, also trying not to jostle Grogu around too much.

“ _ Riduur! _ ” you cry out, looking over the edge to see Din already at the bottom of the mountain and running towards the crowd of Imperials. “ _ Riduur! _ ”

He doesn’t hear you. Din keeps running, causing you to hold Grogu tighter as you take a deep breath. You rock him gently in your arms, returning to the stone in the middle of the mountaintop. You’d follow after Din and try to get Grogu back to the  _ Crest _ , but you know it’s too much of a risk—and if something happens along the way, Din won’t be able to find you easily. Instead, you stay where you are, figuring it’s the safest place to keep Grogu as Din and whoever he’s met with at the bottom of the mountain fight off the Imps.

It’s only after a few minutes that you get a true sign of what’s happening. You see the two Imperial cruisers crash into each other with a fiery explosion, causing you to smile to yourself in victory. That feeling is short-lived as you suddenly hear a large blast ignite from somewhere in the atmosphere, launching closer to the surface until an even larger explosion results from it.

You gasp loudly as you run to the edge of the mountain, your whole body nearly seizing up at the thought of the target being Din. Instead, you watch as the remnants of the  _ Crest  _ scatter in the air, informing you that your home’s been destroyed in a single shot.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, running a hand over Grogu’s head for comfort. He’s still asleep from his intense efforts, leaving you to view the destruction of your home through your blurred eyes on your own. In a quick moment, flashes of every memory you’ve made within the  _ Crest  _ appear in your mind, causing your knees to grow weak. You take a shaky sigh to keep yourself from breaking down, knowing that now isn’t the time. Crisis is about to strike and your son will need you now more than ever.

Suddenly, you hear the rustling of wind from somewhere above you. When you look up, you see four dark figures flying towards you from a shadow in the sky—something you make out to be an Imperial cruiser after observing it further. Your heart starts to race even more as you watch them fly in. With a quick breath, you form a plan, nodding to yourself in order to build up your courage.

The figures—which you now recognize as large, black droids—come closer as you hide the child between your legs and the stone. They’re coming in too quickly for you to try to run; they’d just blast you and kill you the moment you turned your back on them. Once they land, you start to shoot, turning around as they circle around you. Your mind can’t even wander to Din’s whereabouts as you instead focus on trying to save Grogu, your hope diminishing more and more as you watch them take the blaster bolts as if they’re nothing but drops of water upon their black armor.

“Get away from him!” you yell, continually blasting even though you know it’s not doing anything. When one of them gets close enough, they take your wrist and twist it painfully, causing you to cry out as you drop your blaster. Still, you manage to bend down and take Grogu protectively in your arms, refusing to give him up without a fight.

But that’s the loophole the troopers find.

Before you can fight it, they wrap their metal arms around you, taking both you and Grogu with them as all four of them start to fly back up towards the Imperial cruiser with you and Grogu in tow. Their grip’s like a vice, and no matter how much you try to wriggle out of their arms, you know you won’t move.

Din sees the scene unfold as soon as he’s finished putting his jetpack on, hoping he’d be fast enough to get to the two of you before the dark troopers did. He was wrong.

“ _ Rid’ika—ad’ika—ner kar’ta! _ ” Din exclaims with panic and despair, instantly launching his jetpack as he flies as fast as possible towards the group of dark troopers. He can see one of them holding the two of you, your expression full of the same panic Din feels as he focuses on nothing but rescuing the two of you. Even the loss of his ship, his  _ home _ , has been buried deep within him. There’s nothing he can do other than think about destroying these troopers and taking you both back in his arms.

Din gets close before he knows it, but the troopers aren’t oblivious to his approach. One breaks from the group to meet Din, reaching out his metal arms as they try to wrestle him midair. They get a hand around Din’s neck, choking him for a long moment as he struggles to get their grip off of him. Din’s vaguely aware of your voice calling for him, but he can’t listen to anything else you might be saying, instead using his flamethrower to get the trooper’s arm off his neck and push himself away. He soars through the air as he gets closer to the dark trooper who has the two of you—but then, one of the troopers manages to snatch Grogu from your arms, separating you both in a way that makes it even harder for Din to save you together.

“I’m here,  _ cyar’ika! _ ” Din calls to you as he gets nearly right next to the trooper who has you.

“ _ Riduur _ , don’t—!” you try to warn him.

That’s when the fourth trooper punches his helmet hard, knocking him to the side midair and nearly making his jetpack lose control. Din recovers quickly and throws one of his own, though it’s caught by the trooper’s fist. His wrist gets twisted as Din growls in pain and get forced down below the troopers. Still, he kicks his jetpack up and flies to their level again. Din uses his boot to kick one of the troopers hard and send them spiraling a bit further away, giving him just a short window of opportunity to focus on you again.

“Din, it’s too dangerous!” you insist, raising your voice over the rushing wind as Din attempts to get close to you.

“Just take my hand,  _ rid’ika! _ ” Din encourages you, reaching out a gloved hand as he flies closer and closer. “I’ll pull you free, and then we can get—!”

“I  _ can’t _ , Din!” you remark, showing him that your arms are still caught by the trooper. “They’re gonna kill you if you keep flying any longer! You  _ must  _ return to the ground!”

“I can’t leave you,  _ cyar’ika! _ I—I won’t!”

“Listen to me, Din!” Din still flies closer, now able to reach the tips of his gloved fingers against yours. “We’ll be okay! I  _ promise  _ you, we’ll be all right!”

Din can feel his heart falling even if his body keeps soaring, his hand beginning to shake as it brushes against yours. “ _ Ner kar’ta _ , please don’t make me—!”

“You have to take care of yourself! We’ll be okay— _ ori’haat! _ ”

Din’s lips already tremble as he sees the desperation and determination in your gaze. He nearly feels numb as he still firmly gives his response. “I promise I’ll get you out of there,  _ cyar’ika!  _ I swear it upon  _ everything _ , I—I’ll be back for you!”

The gap between you starts to become greater as the dark troopers kick into full speed, causing Din to lose his touch on your fingers as he still hears you cry out one last thing to him. “ _ Ni ceta!  _ I love you!” Your voice breaks in your emotion, causing Din to choke on a breath as he tries to form his own response.

“I love you!—I’m sorry, I’m  _ so _ sorry— _ ni ceta _ , I love you so much!” Din knows his words are probably fading, that you can’t even hear it from the distance that now separates you as Din falls further and further from the sky. “I’m sorry.” He whispers these words under his breath, letting his body fall with no support from the jetpack as gravity takes him under its spell. For a moment, he thinks he would be content to just crash against the ground, meeting the same fate as the  _ Crest  _ so he can disappear with his home and be safe and secure with you and your family in another life.

But then, he remembers the promise he’s made you, and Din knows he  _ must  _ fulfill it.

That’s what gets him to reactivate his jetpack as he makes a swift landing on top of the mountain, instantly crumbling to his knees as his visor stares at the ground. If only you had seen the tears of desperation he shed as he reached out to you, the blurred vision that blinded him from his last view of your beautiful gaze before you were taken from him. Maybe you wouldn’t have encouraged him to give up if you could’ve seen it for yourself. Now, he’s willingly lost not only you, but also his son and his unborn child—his  _ entire  _ clan. Somewhere behind him, his home is also a steaming heap of nothing but dirt and gravel, leaving Din with nothing but the clothes, armor, and weapons on his back.

For the second time in his life, the Empire has taken  _ everything  _ from Din Djarin—but this time, he refuses to let them get away with it.


	39. The Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din tries to ignore the pain of his loss as he attempts to formulate a plan.

_ Wherever I am with you and the child is a home enough to me. _

Din can hear your voice saying these words as he stands in the dust of what used to be his home, the heap of dirt still steaming as it fogs up his visor. His own voice haunts him next.  _ Home? _

_ Yes, Din. Home. _

He kneels down, taking a handful of dust in his hand and watching it fall through the cracks of his gloved fingers.

_ I’ve finally found that sense of belonging again, Din. And it just so happens to be when I’m with you. _

When Din looks back down at the dirt, his eyes catch something shining through the darkness. Carefully, he reaches forward to brush the dust off the object, taking it in his gloved fingers as he studies it.  _ What did I say about that?  _ he can hear his past self saying. _ This needs to stay in the ship. _

Din clutches the silver sphere in his fist for a moment, closing his eyes behind the visor before he slips the ball into the pouch on his belt. The moment he’d shared with his son in the  _ Crest _ —the last time he’d been inside it—flashes across his mind as he temporarily tries to bury the pain of it all, just as the sphere had been buried within the ship’s ashes.

He spots one more shining object in the destruction. Din bends down to investigate, realizing that it’s the beskar spear he was gifted by Ahsoka. With gloved hands that have started to tremble in the aftermath of the day’s events, Din picks up the weapon, rising to his full height as he studies it. Of all the weapons he’d compiled ever since swearing the Creed, this—the newest, the one he’s trained with the least—is the only one that survived. Not his reliable Amban pulse rifle. Not his extra charges.

Just the blaster on his hip, the jetpack on his back, and the spear in his hand.

There’s a dull pang that radiates throughout Din’s chest but he can’t process it just yet. It remains there as a constant reminder of what’s happened even while Din attempts to leave it all behind in a steaming heap on the soils of Tython. He approaches Boba and Fennec, who both stand by the destruction as they wait for his return. Din’s surprised they haven’t scrambled to get away already.

Din stops once he’s at Boba’s side, his visor studying the spear again as he speaks. “This is all that survived.” He doesn’t bring up the silver ball, instead keeping that kind of precious information to himself.

“Beskar,” Boba observes, earning Din’s gaze as he notices the man staring at the long spear. Din just nods to confirm his words. After a beat, Boba goes on. “I want you to take a look at something.” Boba taps his vambrace, pulling up a hologram full of Mando’a letters. “My chain code has been encoded in this armor for 25 years.”

Din takes a look at the letters, trying to piece each one together to spell out the names. He catches onto a few before Boba continues.

“You see, this is me, Boba Fett.” He then points to a lower grouping of Mando’a letters. “This is my father, Jango Fett.”

When Din further observes the letters, he traces them back, coming upon a shocking conclusion as his gaze lifts to meet Boba’s from behind his visor. “Your father was a foundling.”

“Yes.” Boba sighs lightly and turns off the hologram. “He even fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars.”

Din nods, taking a tighter grip on the spear. “Then that armor belongs to you.”

Boba returns the gesture with fond respect in his eyes. “I appreciate its return.”

Din looks around, his gloved fingers fluttering at his side as he tries his best not to acknowledge the one thing he knows they must be thinking about. “Then our deal is complete.”

“Not quite.”

Din’s brow furrows beneath his helmet. “How so?”

“We agreed in exchange for the return of my armor,” Boba begins, gesturing towards Fennec as he speaks, “we will ensure the safety of the child and your partner.”

Din can feel his throat threatening to close up as his helmet falls. “The child’s gone.” He swallows hard, his grip around the spear becoming like a vice as he forces himself to continue. “And so is my… wife.”

When Din looks up from where he’s been glancing at the ground, he catches the sympathetic gazes of Boba and Fennec, making his free hand clench into a fist at his side. He doesn’t deserve such sympathy after failing to protect his clan like he’s always promised.  _ I’ll never let anyone or anything take you away from me, rid’ika _ , he remembers telling you the night he feared losing you the most.

_ It’s dangerous to make such a promise _ , you’d warned him,  _ but I believe you. _

You shouldn’t have believed him.

“Until they are returned to you safely,” Boba finally speaks, tearing Din away from the torments of his mind, “we are in your debt.”

Din looks from Boba to Fennec, just to see her nod in agreement with Boba’s words. He sighs, nodding as he avoids having to speak. The lump in his throat has grown much too large, now. Boba seems to notice this as he gestures with his head towards his ship.

“Where would you like us to start?”

Din considers his words, looking up to the atmosphere of Tython as he thinks about what his next step could possibly be. He’s purposely tried not to acquaint himself with any ex-Imperials—and the one who comes to mind makes Din’s gloved hand tighten into a fist so hard that he can hear the leather creak. It’s his only chance, though, and Din can’t afford to turn down any that happen to cross his path. “I know someone, an ex-Imperial.”

Boba nods. “Do you know where we can find them?”

“No.” Din gives his helmet a shake and looks at his hand that’s still wrapped around the spear. “But I know someone who might be able to help us.” Din looks back to Boba. “We need to go to Nevarro.”

With another nod, Boba leads the way to his ship—which Din now recognizes as  _ Slave I _ . He follows behind Fennec, pulling up the rear as he walks in a way that feels half-hearted. Every action he’s taken ever since he fell from the sky with your name whispered on his lips has felt like this. Still, he can’t quite process it all, and he refuses to until the three of you are back in his arms, just as he promised you.

During the journey to Nevarro, Din distracts himself by studying the spear in his gloved hands. He knows that between now and his attempt to come rescue you, he’ll have to train with this as best as he can. There are drills he would often run with his pulse rifle that Din figures will prove to be useful, but losing the ability to disintegrate will be a large difference—along with the distribution of weight. He’s confident he’ll be able to learn fast and he welcomes the distraction from everything he’s just gone through.

Fennec doesn’t attempt to speak to him about it initially, but the closer they get to Nevarro, the more Din can sense her curiosity. He looks up at her when he feels her gaze burning through him, watching as she raises her brow and finally speaks. “I… didn’t know she was your wife.”

Din grimaces, his jaw tightening as his gaze falls to the spear in his hands again. “Yes.”

“You didn’t tell us that on the ridge.”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Din expects to receive some harsh response from Fennec, but instead, he’s met with the continuation of her calm voice. “I understand. It’s hard to trust people in this galaxy with such information these days.” Din huffs in agreement. “I suppose it’s good to know that Calican didn’t get his ticket into the Guild, though.”

Din snorts. “He got a lot more than he bargained for.”

Fennec chuckles at that, understanding exactly what Din’s hinting at. The conversation, though it did cause Din to have to think of you, at least helped to get him through the final stretch towards Nevarro. Boba tells them to get ready for landing, and within just a minute or two, Din can feel the ship settle onto the lava fields. He breathes a sigh of relief, as if just being in familiar territory alleviates a small fraction of the pain he’s still hiding deep within.

Din leads the way off the ship, watching as Karga—who’d been there to greet them with an expression of curiosity—instantly wrinkles his brow with joy yet concern. “Mando!” he greets, reaching forward to shake Din’s hand. He returns the gesture, having left the beskar spear on Boba’s ship. “Where’s your ship? Did something happen to it  _ again,  _ or do I need to have a chat with my mechanics?”

For a moment, Din hesitates, unsure of how to answer his friend. Before he can even say anything, he notices Karga looking past him, and Din turns around to see Boba and Fennec descending the ramp of  _ Slave I _ . He looks back at Din with hardly concealed panic.

“I see you’ve brought some new friends,” Karga starts in a cautious tone. “Where’s your family?”

Din still doesn’t address his question just yet, instead gesturing to Boba and Fennec. “This is Boba Fett and Fennec Shand,” Din introduces. “They’re… going to help me get my family back.”

Karga’s expression drops as he takes a step closer to Din. “What do you mean, ‘get them back?’”

With a sigh, Din stares just past his friend’s head. “You know what I mean, Karga.”

After a moment of silence, Din feels Karga’s hand on one of his shoulders, and he looks to see his friend giving him an expression full of sympathy and shared concern. “Well, Mando, if there’s any way in which I can help, just let me know.”

“Actually, there is.” Din gestures with his helmet towards the city. “Where’s Cara?”

Immediately, Karga begins to lead Din in the direction of the city. Boba and Fennec stay with the ship and Din’s grateful that Karga doesn’t press for more information about his family. Instead, he distracts Din by speaking of how the city’s been ever since they blew up the Imperial base, describing the quick benefits of the city’s freedom. That at least holds Din over until he makes his way into Nevarro’s office area, walking in to see Cara sitting at a desk to his right with her feet propped up.

As soon as Din walks in, Cara sits up straighter, her eyes widening. Karga leaves them alone, instead attending to other business. “Mando,” she greets with disbelief.

“It’s been a while, Cara,” Din attempts to joke.

“Actually, I’ve got a pretty proper title now,” Cara corrects in the same tone, sliding something towards Din on the desk. He reaches his gloved hand down to grab it, running his thumb over it. It’s a metal patch with the signet of the New Republic, securing her place as a marshal.

“Cara Dune, Marshal of the New Republic,” Din announces, tossing the signet back to her. “I heard rumors during my last visit that you might’ve gone legit.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Cara insists, setting the signet back down onto the desk.

Din tries not to shift his weight nervously as he goes on, facing his closest friend with severity. “I need your help.”

Cara doesn’t even move as she immediately offers her response. “Name it.”

Din almost considers throwing his plan out, but he knows that he can’t. Not if he has the chance to somehow get to you and his children. “I need you to locate someone in the prison registry.”

Cara instantly sits up, taking her foot off the desk as she leans towards her registry. “Let’s see what I can do.” She starts to flip through the prisoners and Din’s grateful she hasn’t questioned your absence just yet, though his gloved fingers have already started to flutter nervously at the thought of saying the name that makes pure fury pump through his veins.

“Ex-Imperial sharpshooter,” Din describes. “Last name Mayfeld.” Cara nods as she keeps looking. He offers more information amidst his nerves. “Apprehended near the Dilestri system on a derelict prison ship.”

Finally, Cara stops on Mayfeld’s mugshot, the photo alone causing Din’s hands to tighten into fists as she speaks. “Migs Mayfeld. Serving fifty years in the Karthon Chop Fields for springing a prisoner himself.” She pauses, narrowing her eyes as she reads more. “Accessory to the death of a New Republic officer.” Cara looks up at Din with a wrinkled brow. “Huh. Sounds like a real piece of work. What do you want with him?”

“I need to spring him to help me locate Moff Gideon’s light cruiser.” Din knows this information will start to be a giveaway—but he’s not ready for more attempted sympathy, and he hopes Cara won’t try to give that to him.

Cara leans back in her chair, shaking her head. Din’s pleased to see that she hasn’t quite caught on yet. “You know how I feel about the Empire. But these stripes… mean there are rules I need to follow.”

Din frowns behind the helmet. He wasn’t hoping for  _ this _ , her refusal to help him. He sighs heavily, looking away from Cara for a moment as he contemplates telling her the truth. This is his best shot, his  _ only  _ shot, at getting to you and his kids as quickly as possible. He can’t pass it up. So, with a look back to Cara and a nervous shifting of weight, he confesses. “They have my family.”

Cara’s head straightens where she sits as her gaze darkens at Din. “You mean, the kid?— _ and  _ Astra?”

Din nods. Though his visor remains fixed on Cara, his gaze falls to the desk.

Cara curses to herself, leaning forward on the desk as she looks at Din with mixed anger and concern. “And she’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Din heaves a breath, holding in his chest as he tilts his helmet at her. “She’s… how’d you know?”

“She described all her symptoms to me when you were last here, Mando. It wasn’t hard to piece together, especially with the joys of a new marriage.” Din shakes his helmet, trying not to be embarrassed as Cara sighs with worry. “What the hell happened? Did they take them from the ship?”

“The ship’s gone, Cara.”

Her eyes only widen more at that. “The  _ Crest  _ is gone?” Din offers a single nod, his gloved hands beginning to shake again as he looks around nervously. “Mando, how—?”

“We don’t have time for this.” Din’s as impatient as ever to get going and he can’t handle having to stop and think about everything that’s happened. “We have to get going.”

“It’s late, Mando, and we shouldn’t—.”

“I don’t give a damn what time of day it is, we  _ have  _ to—.”

“Mando, listen to me, you need to at least—.”

“—get going, before Moff Gideon has the chance to—.”

“ _ Din. _ ” Hearing Cara say his true name causes Din to freeze in place, looking from where he’d been staring anxiously towards the threshold to Cara’s face that’s full of concern. She’s now stood from her seat, facing Din more directly as she goes on. “You’re in no shape to be going  _ anywhere  _ right now. Tonight, you need to get a room here and  _ rest _ , because you’ve obviously been through a hell of a lot.”

“You don’t understand!” Din’s beginning to snap now, slamming his hands on top of Cara’s desk as he faces her. “Every single second I spend here just gives Gideon more time to get away with them!”

“I  _ do  _ understand—but if you go in this state of mind, Mando, you won’t even come close to getting to them. If you truly want to save them, then you have to save yourself first.”

Din furrows his brow underneath the helmet, leaning off the desk slowly as he faces his friend’s serious expression. “Save myself?” 

“I know you’re torturing yourself somehow about all of this. You have to take care of yourself before you can make a solid plan to protect  _ them _ , and you know it.”

Cara’s words make your voice echo in his head yet again.  _ You have to take care of yourself! We’ll be okay—ori’haat!  _ Din can feel his eyes burning as he blinks a few times, stepping away from the desk in his attempt to keep his cool. This time, he can’t force you away. Your voice remains, repeating the words over and over, the expression of your fear frozen in his mind like his feet are to the floor.

It’s the hand on his shoulder that manages to keep Din from drowning. He looks from where he’s been staring at his feet to see Cara staring at him with hardly concealed concern—but this time, he appreciates it. “We’ve got an inn nearby. I’ll get you a room and you can just take some time to yourself. When you’re ready, come get me, and we’ll finalize our plans.”

Din nods, wishing he could say more to thank his friend but being unable to thanks to the new lump in his throat. He keeps his gloved hands tightened into fists at his sides as he follows Cara back into the town, allowing her to lead him around. Din’s barely aware of where he’s going, his surroundings being nothing but the same kind of blur that his own tears create as Cara finally gets him to a free room. She pats his shoulder once more before leaving, letting the sliding door close behind her.

As soon as he’s alone, Din reaches up shakily for his helmet, taking a firm grip on it as he slides it off. He turns it in his hands so that the empty visor is facing him, showing the distorted reflection of himself. His jaw tightens along with his grip on the helmet until he’s afraid he might crush it. Finally, with a short yell of all kinds of emotion, Din throws the helmet away, taking satisfaction in the way he can hear the beskar clatter as it skids across the sandstone floor.

The beskar didn’t keep his worst fear from coming true. All those years spent training in the Fighting Corps and utilizing those skills as a mercenary and a hunter in the galaxy did absolutely  _ nothing _ to protect the one thing he’s let himself love. Din could have always been an ordinary man and he would’ve had this same outcome. He gave up so much,  _ everything _ , to be a Mandalorian, and now he’s lost everything again.

If only he’d slipped off his helmet in Sorgan back before he even knew of Gideon’s existence, then maybe he would’ve been able to keep all of you safe.

Din shakes his head, holding it between his hands as he squeezes his eyes shut. You would scold him for having such a thought and he knows it. The Way is all he’s known ever since tragedy struck him as a child and it’s given him more than he could’ve ever asked for. If it wasn’t for his covert, you probably would’ve never been guided to him. No, Din can’t aim his anger towards his Creed.

He’s the only one to blame.

Din takes a step forward, intent on getting his helmet and sitting on the single bed that’s in the room, but his weight gives out before he even has a chance to catch himself. There’s a pain in his chest that aches,  _ burns _ , suffocating him not unlike the waters of Trask once did. Over and over, Din keeps thinking of every moment he’s had with his family—the good, the bad, all of it. There’s a weight that’s growing heavier and heavier on his shoulders at the thought of those being the last he’ll get to make with the three of you.

He manages to move on the floor so that his back is pressed up against the edge of the bed. Din presses his hands flat against the floor at his sides, his eyes closing as he tries to control his breathing. It’s since gone out of control, his cuirass rising and falling so quickly that he can hear the charges on his rifle strap clattering against the beskar. There are a few silent tears falling down his cheeks that he knows you’d wipe away if you had the chance.

Desperately, Din keeps trying to think of the ways in which you’d calm him down, hoping that it’ll help him somehow. His eyes fly open when he remembers one of the last conversations you’d had that day, recounting the words that mean everything to both you and him.

_ What did I vow to you, Din, the day we were wed?  _ you’d said softly, brushing your hands over the beskar on his helmet. Even now, Din lifts his gloved hand to his cheek, closing his eyes again to pretend it’s your touch.

“Mhi solus tome,” Din whispers to himself.

You’d nodded.  _ We are one when together. _

“Mhi solus dar'tome.”

_ We are one when parted. _

“Mhi me'dinui an.”

_ We share all. _

“Mhi ba'juri verde.”

_ We will raise warriors.  _ You’d smiled and pressed such a gentle kiss to the center of Din’s visor.  _ If we’re one when together and parted, then I don’t need you apologizing when I comfort you, because you’d do the same for me. _ His mind switches to another occasion, when you’d been able to get through to him even when he thought it was impossible.  _ You need to let us be there for you, too, Din. Don’t hide from us, from me. _

Din understands, now, as his burning eyes stare endlessly into the wall ahead of him. His gaze switches to the helmet that’s still lying further away, coated in the dust of the sandstone. He can’t keep hiding. He can’t keep pushing these emotions and experiences away. He can’t hold tight to everything, especially when it’s fallen out of his grasp.

He needs to learn how to  _ let go _ .

So, in the best way he can right now, Din does just that. The knot in his chest loosens when he finally lets the lump in his throat dissolve, the sounds of his cries pitiful as his face falls into his hands. For the first time in a long time, Din lets himself feel what he needs to, weeping shamelessly to himself until he can feel his own tears cascading over his jaw and soaking into the cloth that covers his neck. He knows that if he doesn’t let himself have this release, then it’ll hold him back and keep him from doing the one thing he needs to: save his family.

It doesn’t take long for Din to start composing himself again, using the material of his cape to dry his eyes as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. With his emotional release comes clarity of mind, something that allows him to reach an imperative conclusion: ever since he left you and Grogu in the arms of the dark troopers, he’s thought that he's already lost and that he’s completely failed to protect you. That’s not the truth.

Din hasn’t lost you yet and he’s only just beginning to protect you—and he’s confident that on your end, you’re raising all kinds of hell to do the same for yourself, Grogu, and your unborn child.

There’s a new kind of shock that runs through Din’s veins as he nearly leaps to his feet, walking over to his helmet and brushing the dust off of it. He looks at his reflection again, now seeing a man who’s more confident, pissed off, and protective than before. Din slides his helmet back on in determination, letting it click in place before he leaves the room. With quick and purposeful strides, movements that are no longer half-hearted, he returns to Cara. She looks up at him with slight shock, raising an eyebrow as she stands from her desk yet again.

“Mando? That was quick.”

Din takes another deep breath, nodding as he gestures with his head towards the town. “I’m ready. I mean it this time.”

There must be something different about his voice or his stance, because for whatever reason, Cara seems to believe him. She smiles a bit as she nods, walking around the desk and picking up a weapon on the way as she walks with Din back into the town of Nevarro. They don’t speak until they reach  _ Slave I _ , where Boba greets them on the ramp. “You’re back,” he greets, looking pointedly towards Cara as he speaks, “with a friend.”

“She’s got information about the ex-Imp,” Din informs him, “and she’s going to help us take them back.”

Cara offers another nod, looking at Boba with her usual expression of tough determination. Boba nods, leading the way up as they get into the ship. Fennec’s sitting where she had been before and Din can notice the newly-painted armor of Boba’s hanging near her. Din and Cara take their seats as Boba stands nearby, waiting to walk into the cockpit until he has his information. “Where are we headed?”

“The Karthon Chop Fields,” Cara answers firmly.

Boba furrows his brow. “Isn’t that a New Republic prison?”

“I’ve got it covered.” Cara flashes her badge at him, causing Boba to nod once before he heads towards the cockpit.

Din lets his gloved hands tighten on his cuisses as he feels  _ Slave I  _ taking off, his anxiety now exchanged for pure determination as he thinks over his growing plan more and more. He hasn’t lost you yet and he refuses to—and all that’s left to do now is pray to the Maker that you can hold yourself and Grogu over until he can make his way back to you.


	40. Coercion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess does everything in her power to protect Grogu and to resist Gideon’s interrogations.

You haven’t stopped fighting since the moment you told Din to let you go. You never will.

You’ve tried so hard to wrestle your way out of the dark trooper’s grasp that their grip around you has become like a vice, making your chest ache as you stop solely in concern for the child you’re still carrying within you. They bring you towards the shadow of an Imperial cruiser that looms in the sky above Tython, the thinning of the air not helping your chest as you try your best to take steady breaths. Constantly you look over to where Grogu is to make sure he’s all right, and thankfully, he’s still steady in the arms of the trooper. Still, you can hear his faint whimpers, which grew stronger once he saw his father’s image fading from the sky.

“It’s okay, Grogu!” you exclaim to him over the rushing wind, catching his attention as his large eyes widened in fear look at you. “He’ll be okay!”

Grogu coos, but the sound’s drowned out by that of an entrance sliding open on the cruiser. Your jaw tightens as you look up, preparing yourself to fight like hell as soon as you’re placed on board. The first thing you intend on doing is getting Grogu back in your arms. That’s what you focus on as the troopers fly through the entrance, engaging the reverse thrusters on their feet as they ease you to the floor.

Once you think their grip’s loosened enough, you try to fight again, kicking one of their feet out from under them and forcing your arms to the sides in order to break free of their grasp. You start to run forward towards the trooper who has Grogu, but before you can even get two steps in that direction, the dark trooper reaches from behind you and turns their wrist to take a firm grip around your neck. Instantly, you release a gasp for air, something that’s only made worse when the dark trooper pulls you back against them. Your back hits their hard armor and you lose all your breath, causing you to wordlessly plead for mercy as your hands grip their metallic wrist.

Eventually, with one of their arms wrapped securely around you again, they let your throat go. You would double over if they didn’t have you held so tightly against them, your chest heaving as you cough a few times. Your gaze that’s fallen to the floor looks up when you hear Grogu coo and you can see him looking at you with his chin tucked into his chest, as if he’s pleading for you not to fight them anymore. You nod, knowing that your son is right—for now.

Staying as still as possible, you let the dark troopers take you and Grogu further into the cruiser. They march with you until you’ve reached what must be the brig, where armed guards already wait outside of a cell. You grit your teeth, only complying with the dark troopers around you. Once they leave you and Grogu on the bench inside, they turn and leave, letting the stormtroopers come inside instead.

The door to the cell closes and immediately you launch into action. You rush forward and slide on the floor, using your legs to take one of the stormtroopers to the ground. They fall as you make it onto one knee, taking the blaster from their hands to shoot them dead. Before you have the chance to turn and get the other, they kick you over, making you land on your side as the blaster falls from your hands. Quickly, you rebound and reach into your boot to seize your knife, throwing it and landing it in the space between the stormtrooper’s helmet and chest. They fall to the floor in a heap.

You can hear Grogu coo happily as you start to get up, making you chuckle as you step forward to take your knife and the stormtrooper’s weapon. Before you have the chance to do so, the cell door opens, and you’re hit hard in the head with the barrel of a large blaster. You’re sent sprawling to the floor as the cell spins around you, a low groan of pain escaping your lips as you lay on your side.

Grogu watches the scene unfold with anger that nearly blinds his large eyes. His tiny fists ball up at his sides when he sees you lying in pain on the floor of the cell, the two new stormtroopers standing over you with their weapons drawn.  _ My mother, that is!  _ Grogu seethes, though he knows it’s nothing but an angry coo to their ears.  _ Hurt her, you cannot! _

Before he can stop himself, Grogu lifts one of his hands, using the Force to take one of the stormtroopers to the ground. Once he’s gotten him there, he throws him towards the other trooper, making that one also fall to the floor. Grogu’s so blinded by his fury that he doesn’t see who’s also coming into the cell, instead focusing on his work as he throws one trooper to the wall on his left. With his other hand, Grogu Force-chokes the other trooper, his eyes narrowed in focus.

_ Suffer, you will!  _ Grogu insists.  _ The hurt of my family, you will pay for! Lucky my father isn’t here, you are! _

When he hears the other trooper getting up, Grogu also starts to Force-choke that one, making them both struggle for air in a way that brings Grogu satisfaction. Still, one voice manages to break through to him: yours.

“ _ Ad’ika _ , no!” you call to him, your voice weary as you still recover from the hard hit you took. “He wants you to do this—let them go!”

Grogu can feel his hands shaking, his anger that he’s always been warned about in his training, and so he finally resolves to throw the troopers together and release them. A large wave of exhaustion washes over him as he leans down on the bench, his little breaths now turning into wheezes as he turns to look at the other presence in the room.

Moff Gideon.

You’re about to ignore the ache in your head and leap at him when a stormtrooper steps out from around him, pointing their blaster in your direction. Gideon raises a hand, looking at his trooper with a raised brow.

“Don’t stun her,” Gideon commands, the sound of his voice making your blood boil as he offers you a small smirk. “There are…  _ complications  _ to that.” Your eyebrow quirks up at his words, yet you remain still under the stormtrooper’s barrel as Gideon walks closer to Grogu. One of your hands tightens into a fist as you nearly growl, especially when you hear Grogu wheezing for breath. “You’ve gotten very good with that.” Gideon pauses as he starts to kneel in front of Grogu. “But it makes you  _ oh-so  _ sleepy.”

Grogu continues to breathe heavily, looking down at his hand as if he’s trying to avoid Gideon’s gaze. Your heart aches as you make the smallest move towards him, causing the stormtrooper to lean their blaster closer to your head. You freeze, grimacing as you continue to watch Grogu and Gideon.

“Have you ever seen one of these?” Gideon questions, pulling something from his belt and igniting it. You watch with shock as a dark blade appears with white light surrounding it. It nearly looks like a lightsaber, though it’s shaped more like a sword. Gideon brings it close to Grogu in a way that makes your chest seize up. “From years past?”

Grogu nearly looks amazed at the blade as one of his little hands starts to reach out towards it. The shaking of his hand makes you wince under your breath. Gideon smirks the more Grogu reaches for the weapon, causing a knot to tie up in your stomach as you narrow your eyes at him.

Eventually, when Grogu starts to coo, Gideon pulls the blade away with a sinister smile. “Oh— _ uh, uh, uh _ ,” he chastises. Grogu falls over completely in exhaustion as Gideon rises to his feet. “You’re not ready to play with such things.” He retracts the blade and hangs it back on his belt. “Liable to put an eye out with one of these.”

Yet again, Grogu reaches out—but this time, towards Gideon. You can feel your chest starting to heave in concern as his little eyes close in concentration.

“Looks like you could use a nice, long sleep.” Gideon offers the words like a taunt, smiling even as Grogu wheezes harshly in his strong effort. You know you should be fighting this hard, too, but you’re afraid that even a single movement could cause Grogu to be hurt, or the child within you. Gideon nods towards a trooper on his right, and before you can cry out in protest, they stun Grogu. He falls slowly with his eyes closed upon the bench, causing you to clench your jaw as Gideon barks another order. “Put it in shackles.”

Unable to hold back anymore, you finally speak. “I hope you feel victorious about the fact that you just stunned a  _ child _ .” You hardly conceal the anger in your voice, raising your brow as Moff Gideon turns around and looks upon you. He clicks his tongue at you before he responds.

“All that time spent with the child, yet you still don’t know what it’s capable of.” He snickers, turning to an officer and addressing her. “When we come out of hyperspace, send an encrypted message to Dr. Pershing. Let him know that we have got our donor.”

“Yes sir,” she responds, nodding as she steps away.

Gideon then turns to you again, smiling just a bit in his malicious manner. “And  _ now  _ for our princess.” He gestures with his head towards you, causing the two stormtroopers to take you by your arms as one of them cuffs you. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

You scoff, soon realizing that he’s going to be taking you away from Grogu. You try to dig your heels into the floor, looking back at the sleeping baby who has tiny binders clipped around his wrists. “ _ No _ ,” you demand with a low growl, trying to fight off the troopers. “I stay with  _ him _ .”

“Ah ah, princess, don’t struggle too much, now,” Gideon warns you. “We wouldn’t have to stun you too, would we? It could be quite risky for you.”

You furrow your brow, still thrown by his refusal to stun you as the stormtroopers practically drag you out of the cell. Gideon brings you to one that’s just further down the hall, opening the door and waving a hand for the troopers to walk in with you first. They force you down on top of the bench, pointing their blasters at you to keep you from resisting. Gideon stands in front of you, smirking in his signature way that makes you want to slap him.

“I see you’ve still been running around with the Mandalorian.”

Your eyes narrow at him. You’re about to warn him to keep your husband out of this when he goes on.

“Twice now, princess, he’s failed you. Is that not enough to prove that he’s nothing but a hunter, concerned more with defending himself than others?”

The urge to bite something back at him nearly overpowers you, but you keep yourself controlled. You know that Gideon wants you to lash out and you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“I’m sure he promised you that he’d keep you safe too, didn’t he? That he wouldn’t leave you? Maybe even that he’d  _ die  _ for you?” Gideon clicks his tongue, kneeling in front of you now as he raises his brow. “I tried to tell you, Astra: hunters never keep their promises. Din Djarin is no exception.”

“You don’t  _ know  _ Din Djarin.” You can’t help it now—the words escape you before you even have a chance to take them back.

You can see the flash of success in Gideon’s eyes upon hearing your retort, causing you to curse to yourself mentally as he responds. “I may not know Djarin personally, this is true. But I  _ do  _ know many things about him.”

You narrow your eyes at him again as if you’re challenging him. Gideon rests his arm on his knee as he continues.

“For example, I know that he’s taken you as his wife.” He gestures to your binded hands, making you look down as you catch the glint coming from the small band of metal around your left ring finger. It’s something Din crafted for the two of you back on Sorgan when he was making himself a new cuisse, utilizing the extra metal to create something you both could share for your marriage. “I assume that’s why your attachment to the child has grown.”

You look back up at him with eyes full of rage. “He’s  _ always _ meant something to us.”

Gideon releases a chuckle. “I’d think that a royal official like yourself would be better with self-control.”

“I’m not a royal official anymore.” Your voice is low and tight with anger as you lift an eyebrow at him. “I’m a member of Clan Djarin—and that means you’re going to regret ever messing with us.”

Gideon smiles wider at that. “Ah, right, your…  _ clan _ .” He makes a point to let his gaze flicker from his eyes to your stomach. “Congratulations on your latest addition.”

You feel a cold chill run down your spine as you pretend to act surprised. “What are you talking about?”

With a laugh, Gideon throws his head back. “Oh, princess, how naive of you to believe that I wouldn’t already know. Why do you think I refused to stun you?”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Your act is  _ up _ . Nevarro’s medical records are not as secure as you think they are.” Your horror is clear on your face, now, as you realize Gideon has yet another way to manipulate you and Din. He chuckles at that, giving his head a small shake. “Now, don’t worry, princess—I don’t plan on hurting your child. All you have to do to keep them safe is comply with my orders. Understand?”

Your hands tighten into fists as you refuse to look away from his gaze. “That’s a difficult request to fulfill.”

“I won’t be asking for much.” Gideon raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m sure you want to do what’s best for your clan.”

You shift your weight at his words, holding a breath in your chest as you keep yourself from speaking more. The uneasiness you feel threatens to make you sick as Gideon goes on.

“All I need to know for now is who pointed you in the direction of Tython.”

“We went to Tython on our own terms.”

Gideon’s face tightens as he huffs, his gaze falling for a moment before he lifts a hand to the side of your face. You cringe at the touch, a feeling that’s so foreign compared to the one touch you always crave. “Your pit stop at Nevarro says otherwise.” Gideon tightens his grasp on your head, making you wince as it worsens your headache from before. “Who told you about Tython?”

You refuse to give in still, gritting your teeth as you keep your eyes narrowed at him. “ _ Don’t  _ touch me,” you seethe.

“You don’t like to be touched, do you?” Gideon slowly removes his hand from you, smirking as he goes on. “Your quick pregnancy says otherwise.”

Every fiber of your being screams for you not only to attack him with words but also with actions—but you know you cannot. He’ll be expecting it and you refuse to comply with  _ anything _ he wants.

“That’s all right. They’ll help you get used to it.” 

Gideon stands back up, nodding at the stormtroopers before he walks out of the cell. The door closes behind him and the troopers set their blasters aside before they look at each other. One then dares to come closer to you.

“What a prize,” one of the troopers says, attempting to touch your cheek as you recoil from him. “No wonder why the Mandalorian claimed her first.”

“Shut the  _ hell _ up,” you bark, sneering at him as he still tries to grip you.

“Feisty, too,” the other one comments. “Must make things more fun.”

You feel sick at the way they’re degrading you, making the knot in your stomach pull tighter as you pull even more away from the trooper’s gloved hand. “It’s too bad someone scratched her face up,” the first one adds. “I’m sure she was worth a lot more before that.”

Your anger has become white-hot and now nothing will stop you from lashing out. You kick the stormtrooper’s shin to make them fall back a few steps in anger, and before the other trooper can try to stun you, you stand and hit his blaster with your cuffed hands. It clatters to the floor as you kick his middle, sending him down to the floor. The other stormtrooper tries to grip your arm, but you bend down and swing your leg across the floor to make him fall. You stand up swiftly and take one of their blasters on the way, switching the mode as best as you can with your cuffs as you shoot them both dead.

You know Gideon’s smart enough not to keep any kind of a key on them, yet you still look, desperate to get to Grogu safely and get the hell off this cruiser. You’re not sure you can bear spending another second away from your son— _ and  _ your husband. With the revelation that Gideon knows about your unborn child, you feel much too at risk, causing your hands to shake as you try to find the key you know you never will.

It’s with a frustrated sigh that you finally give up, sitting with your back up against the bench as you close your eyes. Your chest has started to heave from recent events and from your own anxiety as the possibilities of what Gideon can do to you and try to make you do thanks to your pregnancy haunt you. Not only does he have you as leverage, now, but also your child—one who’s been through too much already.

“ _ Ni ceta, ner ad’ika _ ,” you whisper, setting your hands over your stomach as you close your eyes. “I’m sorry, I… I shouldn’t have let this happen to you.” Your lips tremble as you will yourself to stay calm, knowing that if Gideon’s got an eye on you, he’ll use your emotion against you. “I promise, I’ll protect you to my last breath. I  _ promise _ .” You bite your lip as you choke back a cry. “ _ Ori’haat _ .”

Gideon’s words continue to haunt you as your mind now reflects on the things Din’s said to you, the promises he’s made and that you know he’d uphold if the galaxy allowed him such a luxury.  _ Don’t worry _ , you remember Din saying as he ran his fingers along the old scar on your shoulder for the first time, a mark he’s now kissed countless times.  _ No one will be able to hurt you like this again. _

He stayed true to his words, aside from the work of his old gang. Even then, he’d offered reassurance for your safety.

_ Don’t worry, riduur, _ he said when he called you the endearment for the very first time,  _ I’m not going to let anybody hurt you again _ .

If Din was here, if he saw what they’ve done to you so far and what you imagine they  _ will  _ do should you continue to resist, you know he would make them regret every moment of it.

You know he  _ will  _ make them regret it.

You refuse to lose hope in Din coming back for the three of you, even if it seems to be an impossible task. Until then, you know that you have to continue fighting for your clan—not just for Grogu, not just for your unborn child, but also for  _ yourself _ . You don’t want to think of what Din would do if something happened to you and you refuse to make him go through such a thing. He’s already lost too much. You both have.

_ Your strength amazes me _ , Din’s voice continues to haunt your mind in its beautifully wicked way.  _ Your beauty is rivaled by that. I don’t… I don’t know what I would do without you, now. _

You remember exactly what you said to him in the heat of your pure love, making your eyes water more as you close your head and rest your head against the bench. Your fingers circle the metal ring around your finger as you pretend to speak to him. “You won’t have to know.”

It’s then that a small cramp—similar to the one you experienced on the way to Nevarro—ripples across your lower stomach, making you hiss to yourself as you hold the place with your hands. You squeeze your eyes shut, afraid as ever to let your child down as you know the stress and actions of the day have certainly affected them. You’re in desperate need of a source of comfort when you hear Din’s voice yet again.  _ Sleep, cyar’ika. You just need to rest. _

You nod to yourself, managing to stand up as you sit onto the bench once again. You lay on your side, closing your eyes as you take a shuddering breath. Inside your mind, you confess your love to Din, as if he can actually hear you.  _ I love you _ .

Your mind provides a response from him.  _ I love you too, riduur. Nuhoy _ .

A single tear escapes your eye as you lay there, managing to pretend that his arms encircle you in the same manner his words do as you fall into a fitful sleep, dreaming of the moment when your strength pays off and you get to experience it for yourself once again.


	41. The Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din makes reluctant and temporary amends with an old enemy to get the coordinates to Moff Gideon’s cruiser—at any and all costs.

The journey to the Karthon Chop Fields begins in silence, with Din cleaning his blaster to make it as efficient as possible while Fennec and Cara attempt to mind their own business. Din can practically sense the curiosity radiating off his friend; he still hasn’t told her about his relations to Mayfeld. He knows he’ll have to disclose the information to her eventually—and he also knows that she’ll be even more reluctant to spring him once she knows what he did to both Din _and_ you.

“We went on a job with him back before our first mission on Nevarro,” Din begins, finally breaking the silence and satisfying Cara’s curiosity. He doesn’t look away from his blaster as he speaks. “Astra and I.” Din clenches his jaw, his next thought giving him such a strong sensation of anger that he nearly considers telling Boba to turn the ship around. “That’s how she got her scar.”

Din can hear Cara shift in her seat as she rests her elbows against her knees. “He cut her face?”

“No.” Din finally looks up, meeting Cara’s stern gaze as he answers. “Someone else in the crew did that.” He has to force himself to stop gritting his teeth as he continues. “He was just an accessory. Kept her pinned down.” Din’s gloved hands tighten around his cloth and blaster as he forces his helmet to look to the side for a moment. “He made plans to turn her in for credits.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that this guy isn’t trustworthy at all?” Cara nearly scoffs the words, earning Din’s attention again as he clearly reads her disbelief. Her brow lifts as she shakes her head and looks away. “Why are we springing him, then?”

“All we need is someone with Imperial clearances,” Din explains. “He’s the only ex-Imp I know who isn’t passionate about their history.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be able to keep your cool around him?”

Din sighs, holstering his blaster as he nods at Cara. “Whatever it takes to get those coordinates.”

Cara nods, sitting back in her seat as _Slave I_ starts to make its descent. “Whatever it takes.” She releases a breath when the ship stalls, rising from her seat as she looks at Din. “I’ll go get him. You said his name’s Migs Mayfeld, right?”

“Yeah.” Din’s hands tighten into fists and then loosen as he controls his emotions. “We’ll be here.”

Cara nods, waiting for Boba to open the hatch before she makes her way towards the fields. Din sighs to himself again, standing as he begins to pace the hull. He knows he’ll be able to keep himself under control after having his own emotional release on Nevarro, but he’s not sure he can say the same for Mayfeld. The man has proven himself to be nothing but untrustworthy to Din, and now, he’s about to trust him with the fate of his entire clan, his _family_. Din’s not opposed to giving people second chances, but he can only hope that his decision to do so isn’t being made out of naivety.

“This guy sounds like a piece of work.” Fennec’s voice takes Din by surprise as he stops his pacing, looking over to see the mercenary smirking a bit as she cleans off her rifle. “I’m sure he’ll be _lots_ of fun to have aboard.”

Din scoffs with slight amusement, continuing to pace again as he takes his vibroblade from his boot and flips it in his hand to keep himself busy. “As long as he keeps his mouth shut, everything will be fine.”

“Difficult people are _not_ my specialty,” Boba’s voice can now be heard. Din looks from his blade to Boba as he makes his way out of the cockpit, putting his newly-painted armor on as he continues. “I much prefer to silence them.” Boba slides his helmet on, taking his blaster in his hands as he looks out the hatch. “Permanently.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to doing the same,” Din agrees, flipping his vibroblade in his hand once again as he follows Boba’s gaze, “but I need his clearances, or else we’ll never get those coordinates.”

Boba nods in agreement, still remaining by the open hatch as he awaits Cara’s and Mayfeld’s arrival. Din tries his best to continue distracting himself, now switching his vibroblade for his spear as he practices some drills with it. He only gets through a few by the time he hears a familiar voice in the distance, causing him to freeze as his entire body tenses in anger just at the sound of it.

“… To tell somebody where it is that you’re takin’ ‘em,” Mayfeld’s ranting, most likely to Cara. Din holds a breath in his chest, standing straighter as the beskar spear strikes the floor harder than it should. The action catches Boba and Fennec’s attention as they look at him.

“We’ll greet them first,” Boba announces, waiting for Din to nod before he and Fennec make their way down the ramp of the hatch.

Din moves to place his spear back where it was, but before he releases his grip on it, he holds it as tight as he can. His eyes close behind the visor as he forces himself to take a deep breath. All his other emotions have already been released—but this anger towards Mayfeld is new, unresolved. He can’t risk blowing the only chance he has at getting those coordinates, at getting to _you_.

 _You’re being protective, riduur_ , Din suddenly hears your voice haunting him, _more than usual_.

Din chuckles to himself, shaking his head at the memory from when you first met Cobb. He knows that even in this situation, even with _this_ man, you would say the very same thing—especially if you knew what was at stake. He uses your words to comfort him as he lets the spear go, walking towards the hatch and descending the ramp before he can stop himself.

“You know,” Din can hear Mayfeld saying just as he starts to emerge, “for a second, I thought you were this other guy.”

Din can’t help smirking to himself beneath the helmet when Mayfeld’s gaze lands on him, his amused smile fading as his eyes fill with fear. _Rightfully so_ , Din thinks to himself, but immediately removes the thought from his head. Revenge isn’t what’s on his list, for now. Cara walks forward to join Boba and Fennec, giving Din the room he needs to address Mayfeld. “Mayfeld,” he greets unceremoniously as he stops just in front of him, tilting his helmet slightly when Mayfeld’s gaze falls from his visor.

“Hey, Mando,” Mayfeld responds nervously, chuckling a bit as he tries to avoid his gaze. “Long time.” Din simply stands there, causing Mayfeld’s anxiety to rise as he looks between Din and the team behind him. “What, you came here to kill me?”

Cara speaks before Din has the chance to. “All you need to know is I bent a _lot_ of rules to bring you along.”

Mayfeld lifts his chin, looking suspiciously at Cara as he responds. “Why am I so lucky?”

“Because you’re Imperial.” Cara doesn’t bother to hide the hint of distaste from her voice.

“Hey, that was a _long_ time ago, all right?” Mayfeld tries to defend himself, looking pointedly at Din.

Din has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. _Always avoiding the blame_. “You still know your Imperial clearances and protocols—,” Din pauses and lowers his voice as he leans closer to Mayfeld, “—don’t you?”

Mayfeld holds in a breath, looking from Din to Cara as she and the crew start to head back up _Slave I_. Din waits a beat to do the same, holding Mayfeld’s concerned gaze even as he starts to turn around. He can sense that he’s not being followed, which makes Din worried for a moment until he eventually hears the sound of Mayfeld’s boots climbing up the ramp. As the hatch closes, Mayfeld dares to speak again. “Can I at least change out of this jumpsuit?” he requests, gesturing to the less-than-flattering garment. “I don’t think you’re gonna—.”

He gets cut off by his own breath of surprise as Cara shoves a pile of clothes against his chest. “Be quick,” she demands, gesturing with her head to a compartment for his own privacy. “We don’t have much time.”

Mayfeld offers a nod, looking around nervously before he enters the compartment. Din remains standing, refusing to sit until Mayfeld sits first. It’s a sign of dominance and he knows it, but he can’t help himself. Even if Din can’t get his revenge, he’ll at least prove that he has the upper hand.

“Relax,” Cara suddenly says, snapping Din from his thoughts as he looks over to see her placing a hand upon his pauldron. “I don’t think the guy’s capable of doing anything other than bullshitting.”

Din snorts, facing forward again as he nods. “I know. But he has to remember who’s in charge here.”

“I think he’s well aware.”

Still, Cara’s reassurance doesn’t get him to move. Din’s gaze remains fixated on the compartment door, which opens after just a few more moments. Mayfeld emerges with his jumpsuit folded up and he tucks it under his chair as he sits in the one beside Fennec. Din offers Boba the signal to get _Slave I_ in the air as he finally takes his seat, staring at Mayfeld—whose gaze is fixed on the floor—until he turns towards a navigation system. Once he’s situated, he looks at Mayfeld again. Mayfeld returns his glance, still nervous as ever. It gives Din a sense of satisfaction. “We need coordinates to Moff Gideon’s cruiser,” Din informs him, cutting directly to the chase.

Mayfeld’s brow lifts in disbelief. “ _Moff Gideon?_ ” He scoffs and looks away from Din. “Yeah, forget it. Just take me back to the scrapyard. I’m not doin’ that.”

 _We’re not giving you a choice_ , Din wants to say, but he’s cut off by Cara as she rolls her eyes at Mayfeld. “They have his family,” she tells him firmly.

Mayfeld’s expression falls as he looks from Din back to Cara. “The little green guy?” he questions. “And the princess?”

“Yeah, both of them,” Cara confirms.

“One of whom you tried to sell,” Din can’t help muttering, his gloved fingers tensing up.

“If we’re bein’ honest, I didn’t know she was _family_ ,” Mayfeld tries to defend himself, lifting his hands in surrender towards Din. “I thought she might’ve been an old bounty or somethin’.”

“She’s my _wife_ ,” Din nearly growls, instantly making Mayfeld shrink back in his seat.

“Mando,” Cara warns and Din looks to see her giving him a stern look. He forces himself to take a deep breath, looking back at Mayfeld who’s nervously fidgeting with his hands.

“So,” Mayfeld says, clearing his throat before he continues, “I help you guys get them back, you guys let me go?”

Cara shakes her head. “That’s not how this works.”

“Well, then what’s in it for me?” Mayfeld reasons.

 _Not getting killed_. “You get a better view,” Cara offers, looking around the hull for emphasis.

Mayfeld sets his hands on his knees, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he nods. “All right, but here’s the thing. I can’t get those coordinates unless I have access to an internal Imperial terminal.” Din looks away from where he’s been messing with the navigation system, facing Mayfeld as he goes on. “I believe there’s one on Morak.”

Din nearly scoffs. “Morak?” he repeats with disbelief. “There’s nothing on Morak.” He fears that Mayfeld’s trying to trick them.

“It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?” Mayfeld insists. “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.” Mayfeld looks around, trying to prove his honesty by meeting everyone’s gazes. That’s what gets Din to move towards the system to his side, pressing a button down as he calls to Boba.

“Fett,” Din instructs, “punch in the coordinates for Morak.”

“Copy that,” Boba responds and immediately Din can feel _Slave I_ accelerate at a higher rate. Once they’re on course, Boba joins them in the hull, taking over the navigation system as he studies the details of Morak. The rest of the crew is silent—until Mayfeld gets bold.

“Mando, listen,” he pleads, clasping his hands together as he steps closer to Din. Reluctantly, he turns his helmet towards Mayfeld, tilting it as if he’s warning Mayfeld not to waste his time or breath. “I… really didn’t know she was your wife. And I’m sorry you lost your family. That must be tough.”

Din narrows his eyes behind his helmet, still skeptical of Mayfeld as he takes a step closer to him. “What are you getting at?” Din remarks lowly.

Mayfeld sighs, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I just don’t want any tension between us, y’know? On this job?”

Din’s hands tighten into fists as he towers over Mayfeld. “You dropped my son, you locked me in a prison cell, and you tried to sell off my wife after injecting her with a tranquilizer.” Din tilts his helmet as Mayfeld takes a step back. Din forces himself to calm down, closing his eyes behind his helmet as he lets his fingers unravel. “Yet I’m still asking _you_ for help.” Mayfeld visibly relaxes as Din gives him a nod. “Just don’t let me down. _Then_ we won’t have tension.”

Mayfeld nods, though it’s an awkward action. Din ignores it as Boba starts to speak. “I did an initial scan of the planet,” he announces, inviting the crew closer to the navigation system. Din follows Boba closely, standing by him and Fennec as Cara and Mayfeld stand behind Din. “This is what you’re talking about, right?”

“Yeah,” Mayfeld speaks up, gesturing towards a highlighted area on the blue hologram, “that’s the, uh, refinery right there.”

The crew takes a moment to study it before Fennec speaks up. “Wonder what they’re refining in there.”

“Looks like rhydonium,” Boba answers. “Highly volatile— _and_ explosive.”

“Yeah,” Mayfeld snickers, attempting a joke, “kinda like this one, huh?” Din can’t see who he’s referring to, but he assumes it’s himself by the way Boba turns around to give him a warning look.

Boba then faces the diagram again. “They have anti-aircraft cannons protecting it,” he observes.

“And a platoon of security forces,” Fennec adds.

“So we go in quiet,” Din resolves, refusing to pass up the opportunity. “Let’s go get a closer look.”

Everyone takes their seats as Boba navigates _Slave I_ down to the surface of Morak, remaining in silence even through landing. The crew then makes their way to an overlook, following the sound of a nearby Imperial vessel. They stand on the rocky surface as the vehicle—a juggernaut—passes by, rattling loudly as Mayfeld manages to speak over it.

“I’m not gonna need long inside,” he insists, “so once I get the coordinates, you guys gotta get me the hell out of there.”

“You get to the roof,” Boba instructs. “I’ll drop in and pull you out.”

“All right,” Cara agrees as she leans on her weapons. “Mayfeld and I will swap out for the drivers in the tunnel.”

“Hey,” Mayfeld starts to protest, “as much as I’d like to take a road trip with Rebel-dropper here, that’s not gonna work.”

Din can feel himself frowning already as Cara responds. “Oh, yeah?” she challenges him. “Why is that?”

“Well, because these Remnant bases are set up and run by ex-ISB.” His words draw the attention of Din’s visor as he finally looks away from where the juggernaut had disappeared, seeing Mayfeld’s expression of doubt. “If you get scanned and your genetic signature shows up on any New Republic register, you’re gonna be detected, and it’s guns out.” He adds the last part over his shoulder, lifting his brow before he turns to face the view again.

“You sure do know a lot about Imperial remnants,” Cara nearly scoffs.

“Hey, if you wanna accuse me of something, then just _say_ it.”

“Trying to sell a Republic princess, maybe? To your Imperial buddies, I’m sure.”

Before Mayfeld has a chance to defend himself, Din speaks up, his gloved hands tense at his sides. “We don’t have time for this,” he insists gruffly. “Fennec will go.”

“No, I’m wanted by the ISB,” Fennec informs him. “I’ll trip the alarm, too.”

Din curses under his breath, making sure it doesn’t pass through his modulator as he turns over his shoulder to face Boba. “Fett?”

“Let’s just say they might recognize my face,” Boba answers with a tone of doubt.

Din faces forward again, taking a deep breath as his options run low. There’s one left and he knows it’s risky—but only for himself. He’s willing to risk anything about himself for his family, even his sanity at the thought of being trapped alone with Mayfeld. “Great,” Mayfeld rants as Din thinks to himself, “so it’s me goin’ in alone.”

“No way,” Cara argues. “The minute he gets inside, he’ll tip ‘em off. He’ll be a _hero_.”

“Hey, this wasn’t _my_ idea,” Mayfeld reminds her as Din reaches for his heat sensor. He watches as another juggernaut rolls by, catching sight of the fact that the Imperials inside still wear helmets. _A loophole_. “I’m doin’ you guys a favor.”

“Deal’s off,” Cara remarks. “I’m takin’ him back.”

With a deep breath, Din shifts his weight, turning off his heat sensor. “ _I’ll_ go.”

“Hey buddy,” Mayfeld warns, “I might be good at fast-talkin’, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards.” He pauses, fully facing Din as he speaks. “So, unless you’re gonna take off that helmet, it’s gonna be me goin’ in alone.” He starts turning to face the view again. “Or say goodbye to your family.”

Din sighs internally at the way he’s thrown his family into this. “You’re _not_ going alone,” Din states firmly. He then turns his helmet towards Mayfeld. “I’m coming with you.” Everyone remains silent, looking at Din with surprise before he finishes. “But I won’t be showing my face.”

It’s then that the crew resolves to have Din, Mayfeld, and Cara make their way to the top of the tunnel, preparing to leap upon the next juggernaut that rolls through. Boba stays with his ship as Fennec watches their backs, though all Din can focus on is the way ahead. He knows that doing this, switching his armor for someone else’s, is a risk to his Way, his _Creed_. But he refuses to give up this opportunity, to give _you_ up. Maker knows what you’re going through already and Din figures that bending his Creed is the least he can do to make up for it.

As the next juggernaut approaches the tunnel, everyone shares a glance, nodding before they wait for the vehicle to start its entry. Then, they jump down to land on top of it, staying low as they avoid hitting the ceiling of the tunnel. Cara’s the one who makes her way into the juggernaut, disappearing inside with a few exclamations of surprise before the vehicle stops.

“All clear!” Cara calls, causing Din and Mayfeld to join her inside as they look upon the unconscious drivers. “Take your pick.”

Mayfeld nearly gags as he bends down near one, ducking his head away just a moment later. “What the hell were these guys up to?” he exclaims, using his fist to cover his nose and mouth before he continues. “They _reek!_ ”

“Too bad,” Din mutters, picking up one of the bodies and tossing it onto the ground. “Dress quickly. We don’t have much time.”

Din doesn’t bother to listen for his smartass attempt at a retort as he strips the armor from the body, carrying it with him to a crack in the side of the tunnel. He makes his way as far into the secret space as he can, not wanting to risk even a single soul seeing him without his beskar. No one has but you and Grogu and Din wants to keep it that way. It’s special and sacred to him that you two are the only ones in the galaxy who know his face.

Din tries to silence these fears as he watches his beskar get stripped piece-by-piece. Usually, this is something that’s only done in the privacy of your shared quarters, moments before Din gets to rest with you in the way he almost always craves. The protection of his armor would be exchanged for the protection of your body, warm and soft and _loving_. This clothing he’s exchanging it for, these pieces of armor he’s layering on, are a disgrace compared to everything you offer him. Din has to clench his jaw as he changes, trying to keep his thoughts repressed as he focuses upon the task at hand.

Only temporarily does he stop when he exchanges his gloves for the trooper’s, catching the glint of the beskar ring around his finger as he does so. His forefinger and thumb gently touch it, as if the ring itself carries the very presence of you. He smiles to himself when he remembers the look you’d given him the night he gave the rings to you, your gaze sparkling with more light than that of the Sorgan fire and night sky as you kissed him with a love and passion that nearly makes him ache.

Now, Din clears his throat, shaking his head to get himself back on track as he slips the gloves over his hands. If anything, the ring is only a reminder of what he must do—if he wants to see your gaze light up like that again, if he wants to smile with you until his cheeks hurt, if he wants to kiss you until his lips sting.

He closes his eyes when all that’s left is exchanging his helmet for theirs, letting his forefinger and thumb touch the ring that’s now buried underneath his glove. _Whatever it takes._

Din doesn’t waste another moment as he slides his helmet off, putting the trooper’s on before he throws all his beskar into the cloth sack Cara had provided him with. He slings it over his shoulder and dares to make his way out, expecting to receive quite the reaction from his temporary partner as he does so.

As if on cue, Din can hear Mayfeld chuckling as he starts to walk up to Cara. “Look at _this_ ,” Mayfeld observes with amusement. “Oh, the _shame_.” Din has to bite his cheek to keep himself from responding. “Now, that right there is worth the price of admission.”

Din’s trying not to think too much about his lack of beskar as he stops in front of Cara, who gives him a reluctant glance. “Wish I could say it looked good on you,” she says in a low voice, “but I’d be lying.” Still, she tries to offer a small smile of reassurance.

Din appreciates the gesture as he raises a hand and speaks. “Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunner,” he reminds her, “or we’re never getting out of here.” _And you know I can’t last long in there with this guy_ , he tries to imply by the tilt of his helmet.

Cara nods and sets her jaw. “We got you.”

Din then walks forward and takes the sack off his shoulder, offering it to Cara—the only person other than you that he’d trust with it. “Take care of this,” Din requests with hardly concealed concern. “Keep it safe.”

“I will.” Cara’s words are firm as she looks at him with a glance that he knows says more than her words ever could, helping his peace of mind greatly as he nods at her.

“Hey, guys,” Mayfeld calls from the juggernaut. “Still on the clock.”

Din has to try hard to keep his hands from turning into fists as he starts to make his way to the other side of the juggernaut. Meanwhile, Mayfeld continues, as if Din’s coldness was a cue to keep going.

“What would they say on Mandalore?” he taunts. Once Din disappears from his view, he can hear Mayfeld address Cara instead. “It’s a shame you’re not comin’ along with us. You got such a… _sunny_ disposition. Can’t imagine how fun you are in one of these.”

Din summons all his self-control not to say anything as he climbs into his seat, closing the door behind him while Mayfeld tries to work the controls. He doesn’t bother to listen to his partner think aloud as he sits completely rigid in his seat, feeling like he’s already lost something as every muscle in his body tenses. Din only moves to adjust his helmet slightly, despising the way it fits so differently compared to the one he’s so used to.

The revving of the engine nearly scares Din as Mayfeld cheers for himself. “And we are _off_ ,” Mayfeld announces, causing Din to release a small breath as he sits uncomfortably in his seat. He doesn’t like the idea of this— _any_ of this—but then he remembers the image of his ring glowing in the tunnel and he feels all his determination come back. The two of them sit in silence for a long moment before Mayfeld does what he does best: ruins it. “Hey, how’s it feel?” He frees a hand from the controls to gesture to the helmet and armor. “Huh?”

Din refuses to provide an answer, instead keeping his body tense and his helmet facing straight ahead as he gives Mayfeld a side eye underneath the visor.

“I mean, c’mon, man,” Mayfeld nearly sighs. “You still get to wear a helmet, right?”

Din’s fingers fidget slightly on his lap as he forces himself to stay quiet. He refuses to give Mayfeld the entertainment he’s obviously seeking. _So much for getting rid of the tension_ , Din complains to himself.

“All right, you know what?” Mayfeld reaches up to grab the lip of his helmet. “I’m takin’ this thing off.” He slides the helmet off and sets it aside. “I can’t see anything.” He pauses as he focuses with his eyes on the road ahead again. “I don’t know how you people wear those things. And by ‘you people,’ I _do_ mean Mandalorians.”

 _Maybe that’s because you don’t have what it takes to swear such an honorable Creed_ , Din imagines saying, instead tensing up his body even more. Mayfeld sighs when Din doesn’t provide an answer, finally leaving him alone for a bit as they move ahead.

Din tries to distract himself by watching the scenery go by, only letting his helmet move slightly in that direction as he looks through the window beside him. Still, he can feel Mayfeld glancing over at him a few times, and Din fears his peace and quiet won’t last as long as he’d been hoping when Mayfeld opens his mouth again.

“Feels better when it’s off,” he insists, using his hand for emphasis. Din finally turns his helmet in his direction, partially wishing he could show Mayfeld the unamused frown on his face as Mayfeld offers him an amused smirk. Din turns back to where he was, having to hold back a big sigh.

After that, Din’s self-control does get rewarded with another long stretch of silence, the only sounds being the crunching of gravel underneath the juggernaut and the revving of the engine. Din looks out and observes whatever they pass, his curiosity growing when they come upon what appears to be the past destruction of two other juggernauts. He furrows his brow, a cold chill running down his spine as a dark thought enters his mind. _What could’ve destroyed these things so easily—and why?_

“Juggernaut Four,” a voice comes over the comms, catching both Din and Mayfeld’s attention, “you’re running hot. Be sure to watch your cargo heat limits and speed.”

“Copy that, Three,” another voice responds. “We hit a couple bumps. Thanks for the heads-up.”

Din can see Mayfeld nervously checking the status of their own rhydonium, making him release a soft breath as he tries to get his partner back on track. “Don’t worry about the rhydonium,” Din assures him in a low and firm voice. “As long as you drive steady, you’ll get us to the refinery.”

When Din looks back out at the way ahead of them, he notices that they’re coming upon a very small village, where children run in the streets as people converse with one another. Mayfeld reaches up to blare their horn, alerting them to the juggernaut’s arrival in a way that makes Din feel a wave of guilt and reluctance. Everything looked so peaceful before their juggernaut started to roll through and he hates having to disturb that. Din catches one boy’s gaze in particular, holding his eye as he sits nonchalantly on a box beside the road. It’s almost like a silent challenge, seeing which individual can shake the other up more. Din feels as if he’s lost.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld says with a small chuckle as he leans back in his seat. “Empire, New Republic—it’s all the same to these people. Invaders on their land is all we are.”

The juggernaut finishes rolling through the tiny village and Din hopes that’s the last of Mayfeld’s contributions. He should’ve known better.

“I’m just sayin’,” Mayfeld begins and Din already wants to sigh with exasperation, “somewhere someone in this galaxy is ruling and others are being ruled. I mean, look at _your_ race.” Din grits his teeth as his fingers tense up. _It’s_ not _a race, it’s a_ Creed _._ “Do you think all those people that died in wars fought by Mandalorians actually had a _choice?_ So how are they any different than the Empire?”

Din fidgets a bit, trying as hard as he can to keep his frustration at bay as he looks around underneath his helmet. _We’ve never stolen children’s blood for cruel experimentation_ , Din seethes to himself, _or destroyed someone’s beloved home planet_. He thinks specifically of the way they’ve affected his family.

Mayfeld scoffs, facing the road again as he drives on. “If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing. If you’re born on Alderaan, you believe somethin’ else. But guess what?” Mayfeld leans over and nearly touches Din’s arm for emphasis. “Neither one of ‘em exist anymore.”

Din bites his lip, his body tensing even more at Mayfeld’s words. He’s somehow both angered and intrigued by Mayfeld’s words. He despises how they’re making him think, especially as he turns his helmet to look over at Mayfeld and watch him shrug nonchalantly—as if his whole belief system is just a joke. Din looks back to the road ahead.

“Hey, I’m just a realist. I’m a survivor, just like you.”

It’s those words that get Din to snap, some of the tension leaving his body as he opens his mouth. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Din nearly growls. “You and I are _nothing_ alike.”

“I don’t know,” Mayfeld remarks warily. “Seems to me like your rules start to change when you get desperate.” Din clenches his jaw. His family comes before _all_ rules. “I mean, look at ya’. You said you couldn’t take your helmet off, and now you got a stormtrooper one on, so what’s the rule? Is it that you can’t take off your Mando helmet, or you can’t show your face? ‘Cause there _is_ a difference.”

Din closes his eyes, trying not only to keep himself from reacting to Mayfeld’s words but also from believing them. Mayfeld wasn’t there during Din’s childhood when he trained for years to swear this Creed, to gain this _honor_ of wearing a helmet made of beskar to fight on behalf of the Way of the Mandalore. Clearly, he wouldn’t understand.

Still, deep down inside, Din knows that he still doesn’t quite understand it, either. Things feel nice, safe even, when he’s removed his helmet in front of you, getting to observe you and Grogu and all the life around you with his own eyes. He wonders if there’s a line he’s already crossed, if he’s already gone too far with this state of mind to go back to what he’s supposed to have always practiced—if he truly _was_ allowed to show you his face.

“Look, I’m just sayin’,” Mayfeld continues, pulling Din out of his thoughts, “we’re all the same. Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy. As far as I’m concerned, if you can make it through your day and still sleep at night, you’re doin’ better than most.”

Din contemplates his words, thinking back on those days where he truly would have a hard time sleeping. That was mainly back with his old crew, the same one Mayfeld had also pledged himself to. For a moment, just one _small_ moment, Din wonders if they truly are more similar to each other than he previously thought.

Before anyone has a chance to speak, a voice appears over the comms again. “Control, this is Juggernaut Three,” they announce. “We _might_ be comin’ up on some route interference.” Suddenly, there’s a rapid beeping noise, and the pilot speaks up again. “Control, control! We need a new—.” Along with a few other muffled sounds, the pilot screams, his voice cutting out immediately after.

“What was that?” Mayfeld questions, looking over at Din nervously. Din looks down at the levels of the rhydonium with an anxious feeling crawling up his spine.

“Please stand by for reroute,” a voice from control speaks next, her tone being awfully reassuring compared to the horror they just listened to.

Just moments later, a fiery explosion appears not too far ahead of them, the fire and smoke spreading far as the juggernaut only rolls closer and closer to that same location. Din can feel his blood turn to ice as he views the scene, especially when control speaks again.

“Juggernaut Four has been destroyed,” she alerts them.

“ _‘Destroyed?’_ ” Mayfeld echoes in disbelief.

“The rhydonium is still stable,” Din insists, trying to keep everything under control as best as he can—even if the risk of danger is far out of his hands.

“Juggernaut Five, maintain speed and course,” control instructs them. “Proceed with caution. Re-routing course, stand by.”

“‘Proceed with caution?’ Is she _serious?_ ” Mayfeld’s voice is full of horror.

“Control, this is Juggernaut Three,” a pilot from before speaks up. “Requesting—,” he’s cut off by a series of sudden shouts, “abort! _Abort!_ ” They’re also cut off with their own scream as another explosion appears ahead of them—but this time, much closer than before. Mayfeld has to steer far to the side to avoid running straight into the destruction of the juggernaut and Din observes the sight with a chilling revelation.

_Their rhydonium blew up._

Suddenly, the sound of something hitting the side of the juggernaut catches both Din’s and Mayfeld’s attention as they look to Din’s door. “The hell was that?” Mayfeld questions sharply.

Din turns to look at the security screen that reveals the image of pirates pulled up along the juggernaut, with one having leapt aboard. “Pirates,” Din informs Mayfeld, already starting to get up as he opens his window. “Keep driving. I’ll take care of it.” He draws his blaster and immediately starts to shoot, leaning out just enough to catch sight of the pirates. At this angle, he can’t get a good aim at the one who’s on the ship, but he manages to take out one who’s tried to jump and join his friend.

“Are you _seriously_ shooting a blaster near _rhydonium?_ ” Mayfeld exclaims.

Din sighs and ducks back inside the juggernaut. “They have thermal detonators.”

“Terrific,” Mayfeld nearly scoffs.

“Just keep it steady,” Din says before he makes his way to the back of the juggernaut, reaching out for the ladder.

“Get these guys off us—get ‘em _off_ us!” Mayfeld calls after him.

Din pushes his way to the top of the juggernaut as he watches the pirate open the compartment full of rhydonium, pulling out his thermal detonator and activating it. Before the pirate has the chance to place it upon the rhydonium, Din blasts him, sending him rolling off the juggernaut as the detonator instead targets himself and the other pirates. The whole vehicle still sways at the explosion as Mayfeld tries to get it back under control. “They’re trying to blow the rhydonium!” Din exclaims to Mayfeld.

“You _think?_ ” Mayfeld retorts sarcastically. After a few beats, he yells again. “You should’ve left me in prison!”

 _I wish_ , Din thinks to himself, beginning to get down from the ladder when he suddenly notices another cart of pirates approaching. He watches as they come closer, a group of them leaping from their cart to the juggernaut as they land on top of it. Din now knows that he has no choice but to fight. He leaps up onto the juggernaut and instantly starts shooting, targeting the one who’s furthest back and then going for the next.

That’s when the blaster simply clicks, as if it’s already out of power. Din looks at it with a frown. _Piece of shit_.

The pirates start to charge at him, and without another backup weapon, Din simply throws the blaster in their direction. It only temporarily distracts the one pirate who’s come closest to him, who easily dodges it and then lunges forward with his spear made of wood to hit Din. Instead, Din grabs the spear with both hands, wrestling the pirate for it as he soon wins it over. He dodges a punch and hits the back of the spear against the pirate’s back, causing him to trip forward slightly as Din turns and gives him a hard kick to send him flying over the front of the vehicle. Din watches to make sure it doesn’t get the juggernaut too far out of control.

That’s when he’s taken by surprise, the armor on his left shoulder cracking and breaking apart as another pirate hits him hard with their own spear. Din yells in surprise as he turns, also receiving the same hit on his upper arm. Din’s not used to missing the armor that’s an extension of himself, as this armor evidently does no real good in a fight. He knows now that he can only rely on his own skills to win this fight—and that’s what empowers him to stand back up from where he’s knelt and take a firm hold on the pirate’s spear. Din throws a punch into the pirate’s face, letting the spear fall as he kneels again and throws the pirate over his shoulder to make him fly over the edge of the juggernaut.

With one left, Din looks down at the spear by his feet, picking it up and testing the weight in his hand before he throws it straight into the last pirate’s neck. He gets no sense of victory when he sees another cart of pirates already creeping closer, causing Din to turn towards the hatch as he calls to his partner.

“Mayfeld!” Din exclaims. “Pick it up. Drive faster!”

Though he’d given the command, Din’s still taken by surprise when the juggernaut accelerates forward, nearly making Din fall as he catches himself again. The distance between them and the pirates grows and Din feels only temporary relief—especially when he hears Mayfeld shout back to him. “I don’t think faster’s a good idea!” Mayfeld hits the brake and Din nearly falls again, watching the pirates get closer as his frustration returns.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Din shouts, watching with unpleasant anticipation as the pirates get close enough to leap onto the juggernaut once more.

Nevertheless, Din gets in his ready position, keeping his fists pulled tight as he pushes forward. Din runs past the first pirate while landing a punch in his stomach, making the pirate double over as he stops the swinging of the second pirate’s spear. He tugs the spear out of the pirate’s hand and jabs his face with the end of it, turning and flipping it to knock the first pirate to the floor. Din then swings it hard into the second pirate’s stomach, kicking the pirate’s shin once he gets a firm hold on the spear. He releases his right hand from the spear to punch the pirate’s face, getting caught by surprise when the first pirate tackles him from behind and forces him to the floor.

Din grunts and stands up as quickly as he can, getting hit in the helmet with the spear by the second pirate as he takes a step back. Before the pirate can swing again, Din ducks down, making the pirate hit his friend instead as he just barely catches his arm in time to save him from falling off the vehicle. Din hits his helmet against the second pirate’s head, making him fall over as he turns to elbow a third pirate that’s since crept up and punch the first pirate off the juggernaut once and for all.

The first pirate lunges with the end of the spear jabbing into Din’s stomach, forcing him back a few steps as Din takes a hold on it. Din uses his left fist to hit the spear, pulling it from the pirate’s grasp as he uses his shoulder to force the pirate away from him. He raises the spear to hit the third pirate in the side, quickly turning and doing the same to knock his leg out from under him. Before he can stand from where he’s knelt down, the first pirate takes Din by his helmet, forcing him onto his back as his head leans off the juggernaut. The third pirate—who’s already hanging off the side of it—keeps Din pinned down as the first one straddles Din in an effort to remove his helmet.

Meanwhile, Din watches in horror as a fourth pirate breaks into the rhydonium, pulling a detonator from his robe and activating it. He sets it upon the rhydonium as Din wrestles around as much as he can, every limb in his body screaming for mercy as he tries his best to break free. The fourth pirate waves his friends on as he jumps back towards the cart, but with newfound strength, Din reaches back and forces the third pirate’s head to hit the side of the juggernaut hard. Once his grasp is free, Din throws the first pirate over his head, launching him onto the ground. As Din stands, he spins and kicks the third pirate off the side of the vehicle, continuing the movement to stand firm on his own two feet. He then walks over to the rhydonium and lifts the detonator, throwing it towards the pirates as the explosion sends him flying backwards. Roughly, he lands on top of the juggernaut, breathing heavily a few times to recover from both the impact and all the fighting.

Still, he chuckles to himself as he lays there. He’d definitely used a move or two in there that you’d taught him.

Din forces himself to sit up on one elbow as he watches the explosion fizzle out. Mayfeld’s voice soon calls to him from the hatch. “Uh, Mando, I gotta stop!” he exclaims. “I can’t cross at this speed!”

Din groans as he sits up further, narrowing his eyes when he catches movement from around the flames of the explosion. At least four more carts of pirates speed their way through the smoke, each one carrying a thermal detonator as they charge forward. Din can feel the exhaustion in his very bones as he falls back onto his elbow, trying to muster the strength to push on. He closes his eyes as he waits for his mind to offer him such motivation.

What it provides is the image of your expression that day on the prison ship, just after he’d taken out the droids. Din can’t help letting out a huff at the fact his brain went to that first, remembering the rush of adrenaline your expression and few words gave him. He would’ve fought a thousand battles after that just to earn such a reaction from you again. Din knows if you _were_ here, you’d likely provide the same thing.

That’s what causes Din to sigh deeply as he stands up, grunting along the way as he slowly gets back in his ready position. He can see them coming closer and closer, waiting for them to leap upon the juggernaut as his whole body gives out to keep fighting not for himself, but for _you_.

Suddenly, he hears the sounds of TIE fighters shooting the ground behind him, causing Din to duck as he looks and sees two of them flying in to the rescue. For the first time in his life, Din’s glad to see the fighters, smiling with relief to himself underneath his helmet as he watches the pirates’ carts go up in flames. More troopers run to the rescue as the juggernaut rolls forward into the refinery. Din takes that as his cue to return back to Mayfeld inside the vehicle. He makes his way to the hatch and slowly descends inside it, groaning from soreness already as he hops down from the ladder.

With his arm wrapped around his shoulder, Din walks back to his seat, climbing into it with difficulty as his body cries out for mercy. Nevertheless, he forces himself to relax, allowing his tensed muscles to have a break as he watches the guards and troopers salute them on their way in. Din never would’ve thought he’d fight so hard for the Empire. _No, not the Empire_ , Din reminds himself. _For my family._

“Never thought you’d be happy to see stormtroopers,” Mayfeld adds to Din’s thoughts unknowingly, saluting them back with a nod as he lets the juggernaut ease into the refinery. When the vehicle stops, they wait a beat, taking a breath before pushing open their doors. Instantly, Din can hear the entire room of Imperials cheering for them, nearly making Din sick to his stomach as he starts to climb down from the juggernaut.

If your lives weren’t on the line, Din would’ve let himself burn with the rhydonium.

Now that he’s lost in a crowd of Imperials, Din feels frozen, as if any wrong move could somehow give him away. The fighting is natural to him; the acting isn’t. He feels as transparent as ever without his beskar on, as if even the darkened material of this helmet could reveal what lies underneath: the concerned expression of a man who just wants his family back.

“Okay,” Mayfeld says, catching Din’s attention as he starts to take control of the situation, “all we gotta do is find a terminal.”

Mayfeld can evidently tell that Din’s struggling, now, as he uses his hand against Din’s elbow to ease him ahead. Together, they walk through the split that’s being made in the crowd for them, trying to ignore the various cheers that make Din’s hands turn to fists at his sides.

“It’s probably in the officers’ mess,” Mayfeld adds in a low tone, trying to keep his words between the two of them as they sift through the crowd. Mayfeld acts like a natural saluting and nodding as if these truly are his old buddies and Din knows he’s appearing as just the opposite—especially since he won’t even remove his helmet. Still, he hides behind it, letting Mayfeld guide them as he walks forward. There’s a doorway that Din assumes leads to the mess, causing him to stay in place as Mayfeld goes ahead and surveys the area. He turns back to Din and gives him a knowing glance. “There it is.”

“Good luck,” Din says, causing Mayfeld to nod as he takes the data stick and enters the mess. Din watches from a distance, shifting his weight anxiously. His stomach’s nearly doing backflips when he watches Mayfeld freeze, quickly turning around and booking it back over to Din. He keeps his gaze downcast as he speaks.

“I can’t go in there,” Mayfeld stresses.

“Why not?” Din challenges, using his shoulder to keep Mayfeld from walking any farther forward.

“That’s Valin Hess,” Mayfeld informs him.

“Who?”

“It’s _Valin Hess_. I used to serve under him.”

Din curses to himself. “Will he recognize you?”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head before going on. “I was just a field operative, but I’m not takin’ the chance. It’s _over_.”

Mayfeld tries to walk away, but Din stops him by pressing his hand upon his chest, forcing him backwards as he faces him. “Let’s just do this quick and we can get out of here.”

Din can tell Mayfeld’s about to reject his request—but he can’t have that. “I can’t do it, okay? We have to abort. I’m sorry.”

“ _No_.” Din stops Mayfeld from leaving again by using his hand, his voice remaining low and firm as the fear of losing his family starts to overwhelm him. “I _can’t_. If we don’t get those coordinates, I’ll lose my family forever.” Din shakes his helmet, silently pleading for Mayfeld to somehow understand. “I can’t… I can’t take that chance.”

When Mayfeld starts to shake his head, Din searches for other ideas, unsure of what the consequences will be as he speaks first and thinks later.

“Give _me_ the data stick,” Din demands.

“It’s not gonna work,” Mayfeld insists. He pauses, as if saying the next words are painful to him. “In order to access the network, the terminal has to scan your face.” He lifts his brow with his last words, placing the emphasis on the one thing Din swore he wouldn’t do.

Still, Din looks beyond Mayfeld to glance at the terminal. It’s in the corner, rather secluded from those who sit in the room. He figures that maybe, if he’s lucky enough, he can quickly get his face scanned and then set his helmet back over his head before anyone notices. _Maybe._

“Let’s go,” Mayfeld urges, assuming Din’s also opting out of his one chance.

He assumed wrong. “Give it to me.” Din takes the data stick from Mayfeld’s hand, pushing past him before he can stop himself. He walks up to the threshold, only pausing to take a quick glance around the room. Din takes a confident step towards the terminal, continuing his walk—until he catches the gaze of Valin Hess. Din stops to salute him, quickly turning the other way as he heads to the terminal.

Once he gets there, Din starts clicking around, wondering if there’s a way to trick the machine. Surely he could convince it that his helmet _is_ his face. He figures no one’s even actually tried it. He’ll be the first.

Din’s brain is running on autopilot as he pulls up the scanner, letting it project onto the helmet as it scans him once. For a moment—a quick, _hopeful_ moment—he thinks it might work.

Then, the screen turns red, and the machine begins to cry out loudly with dismay. “ _Error, error_ ,” it beeps. “ _Facial scan incomplete._ ”

Nervously, Din looks over at Valin Hess, making sure they haven’t moved as he turns back to the terminal. Initially, he just continues to stand there aimlessly, trying to get himself to do what he knows he needs to.

But, how can he? How can he let go of the one thing he’s always known, the thing he’s put his life on the line for and nearly _died_ for? If he shows his face, he goes against everything he’s been raised to believe. Din loses the security he’s desperately tried to cling to ever since he watched his parents die right in front of him.

 _Your status as a Mandalorian doesn’t define you_ , your voice suddenly speaks inside his mind. Din takes a deep breath, remembering the conversation you’d had just after he left you on the boat. When you come to mind, Din’s reminded that now his family is the one thing he should be holding on to, the thing he should be putting his life on the line for—and, if necessary, dying for.

“ _Ten seconds to system shutdown_ ,” the terminal warns. With a breath held in his chest, Din starts to lift his hands.

 _You’re a warrior._ Din thinks of all the battles he’s fought, the most recent one still aching throughout his entire body.

Din’s gloved hands meet the sides of the helmet. “ _Ten_.”

 _You’re a leader._ Din remembers the way he spoke to the Mos Pelgo villagers in the cantina, with your hand in his as you silently praised his words.

Din begins to lift the helmet from his head. “ _Nine_.”

 _You’re a husband._ Din pictures the beautiful image of your sleeping form pressed against his chest, especially that first morning after he vowed himself to you. _You’re a father._ Finally, Din thinks of Grogu’s coos as he called his name—and the tears he shed the night he found out about his clan growing to four.

Din breathes in the air around him and sets his helmet aside. “ _Eight_.”

He grits his teeth as he clicks around the buttons, trying to get the countdown to stop as he rescans his face.

“ _Seven, six, five, four, three, two…_ ”

Din can practically feel every skip of his heartbeat as it races in his chest, which only resolves slightly when the screen turns green and gives him access to what he needs. He works as quickly as he can for not knowing the machinery, searching through each detail until he finds what belongs to Moff Gideon. Once he’s found it, Din places the data stick where it belongs, letting the machine take its time as it downloads the necessary information.

Din’s so focused on what he’s doing—and trying not to panic at the nakedness of his face—that he nearly jumps when he hears someone call for him from across the room. “Trooper!”

Din only looks in that direction quickly, not moving his head at all as he finishes getting what he needs. He can hear someone getting out of their chair, causing his hands to shake a little more than they already have from both adrenaline and anxiety as the terminal keeps whirring. Soon, the man is right beside Din, nearly making him freeze as he suddenly remembers he can’t hide his facial expressions like he always has. For the first time in his life, Din has to _act_.

“Hey, _trooper_ ,” the officer says more firmly.

The terminal beeps, telling Din that his information’s been downloaded. Din can’t help shutting his eyes tight, squeezing them as he tries to keep himself calm. _I can do this_ , Din encourages himself. _Just… be calm. Pretend it’s Astra_. With a breath he keeps to himself, Din reaches for the data stick, taking it out as he turns to face the officer.

Valin Hess.

Din wills himself not to widen his eyes as he realizes who he’s facing—and who, in turn, is truly facing _him_. “Pay attention when a superior addresses you,” Hess scolds, somehow completely unaware of the storm that’s raging within Din. He looks Din over before he speaks to him again. “What’s your designation?”

Din swallows hard, scrambling for some kind of answer as he stares right into Hess’ intimidating gaze. “Transport crew,” he answers lowly, nearly cringing at the sound of his unmodulated voice. It should be saved for you, for the praises and exclamations of love he gives you. _Not anymore_. Din’s gaze falls as these conflicted thoughts start to consume him.

Hess furrows his brow as he looks at Din with confusion. “What?”

Din has to try hard to hide his panic, now, as he returns Hess’ gaze again with false confidence. “My designation is transport copilot.” He hopes that if he says the words firmly enough, Hess will believe him.

He’s wrong. “No, son.” Hess pauses, as if he’s evaluating Din for a long moment. “What’s your TK number?”

Din’s heart is racing so fast that all he can hear is the rushing of his own blood through his veins, a lump forming in his throat as he struggles to speak around it. “My—TK number, is…”

“Uh-huh,” Hess urges.

Din stands dumbstruck in front of Hess, unable to form a single coherent thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt as powerless as he does in this moment.

“This is my Commanding Officer TK-593, sir,” Mayfeld’s voice suddenly appears, earning both Hess’ and Din’s attention as they watch him approach them. Din can sense the surprise in his gaze, which hopefully isn’t apparent on his face. He never expected Mayfeld to do such a thing after the fear he’d shown before. “I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant TK-111, sir.” Mayfeld now stands beside Din as he tries to keep his cool, his gaze looking just beyond Hess as he lets Mayfeld take control of the situation.

For the first time during this whole mission, Din doesn’t mind giving up his dominance to Mayfeld.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a little bit,” Mayfeld continues, “since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”

Hess looks back to Din, and without moving his head, Din returns his gaze—wishing more than ever he could hide behind his helmet again. Din keeps his eyes narrowed as Hess lifts his chin and addresses him again. “What’s your name, Officer?” Hess questions in a loud tone.

Din lifts his brow, fighting an internal battle with himself as he decides whether to give his true name or not. There’s only a handful of people in the galaxy who know his true name—and you’re the only one who uses it regularly. He’s not sure he’s willing to give up something _that_ sacred, even if he’s already given his face up. When Hess offers an expression of further confusion, Din opens his mouth to speak, instead releasing nothing but air as Mayfeld steps in for him. “We just call him Brown Eyes,” Mayfeld answers, looking over at Din with a reassuring glance. “Isn’t that right, Officer?”

Din looks over at Mayfeld, nodding wordlessly before he repeats the gesture while looking at Hess. He even manages the smallest of smiles, hoping Hess has bought it.

“Let’s go fill out those TPS reports, so we can go recharge the power coils,” Mayfeld insists, wrapping his hand around Din’s arm to lead him away from Hess and the terminal.

As they start to walk away—with Din nearly _pleading_ the Maker that it’s his true escape—the voice of Hess from behind them stops them in their tracks. “You’re not dismissed.”

Din turns back around to face Hess at the same time Mayfeld does, keeping his hands with his helmet behind his back as they look at him. Din’s anxiety is at an all-time high as his jaw is nearly wired shut, his hands shaking as he wills himself not to drop his helmet to the floor.

“You the tank troopers that delivered the shipment of rhydonium?” Hess questions, looking pointedly at Din as he speaks.

“Yes, sir,” Mayfeld responds quickly.

“Yes… _sir_ ,” Din tries to repeat just as accurately, glancing at Mayfeld for reassurance. Mayfeld nods only slightly to make Din feel at ease. Din never thought he’d seek such approval from his past enemy before.

Maybe he’s changed since they last encountered each other.

Hess doesn’t respond right away, instead walking closer to the two of them as they both avoid his gaze. When Hess continually looks at Din, however, he meets his eyes, swallowing hard yet again as he views the coldness within them. “Well,” Hess begins, “you two managed to be the only transport today to deliver their shipment.” Din keeps a cautious eye on Hess even when his gaze switches to Mayfeld, only letting his own gaze fall to the floor once Hess slaps a hand on each of their shoulders. “Come with me, hm?” Hess leans forward, smiling a bit as he looks between them. “Let’s get a drink.” He pauses and slaps his hands against their shoulders before he looks at Din. “ _Brown Eyes_.” He starts to walk ahead, leaving Din and Mayfeld behind as they share a concerned glance.

Din’s not sure how much longer he can handle this.

Din watches as Mayfeld follows Hess, figuring that he ought to do the same as he turns around and heads towards Hess’ table. Hess and Mayfeld sit across from each other as Din sits on the end of the table, uncomfortable with the way his face is now just beside the window as he attempts to blink the light away.

“So, what shall we toast to, boys?” Hess asks as he starts to distribute the drink he must’ve been about to enjoy earlier when Din first caught his attention. “I can blather on about ‘To health’ or ‘To success…’” Hess pauses, focusing on pouring as Din nervously looks ahead. He can feel the corners of his mouth twitching as he tries to keep his face relaxed, his mind a grand void of complete white that even your voice can’t break through. “But, I’d like to do somethin’ a little less rote.”

Din’s hand reaches out to hold his cup tightly, which he grips onto for dear life as his body screams for him to tense up thanks to his discomfort. _Think of her_ , Din tries to tell himself. _Think of them_.

“Where you from, Brown Eyes?” Hess questions, earning Din’s full attention as even his head moves along with his gaze. Hess rests his hands on each side of the table—a clear sign of dominance, one Din might dare to take if he was hidden behind his beskar. But he can’t hide, right now. He’s not Mando. He’s _Din_ —and Din doesn’t struggle for such dominance, especially in a situation such as this.

Din takes in a breath, intent on answering when Mayfeld speaks up instead. “How ‘bout a toast to Operation Cinder?” he suggests. Din releases the breath, his gaze fluttering around the room as he tries to control his racing heart.

“Now there’s a man who knows his history,” Hess praises Mayfeld, looking pointedly at Din before he glances back to Mayfeld.

“No, I don’t just know it,” Mayfeld insists. Instantly, Din looks nervously over at Mayfeld, his eyes slightly widened with concern as he hears the subtle anger within Mayfeld’s voice. “I _lived_ it.” He pauses for a moment, letting Hess soak in his words before he continues. “I was in Burnin Konn.”

“Burnin Konn?” Hess echoes with surprise. Mayfeld hums to confirm his words. “That was a hard day.” Hess looks to Din as he speaks, but Din sure isn’t looking his way. Instead, his chin is tucked nearly into his chest as his gaze pierces the table. Din can sense the tension that’s building and he knows it’s dangerous. If Mayfeld lets his past with the Imperials influence his feelings, it could be deadly—for _all_ of them. He can’t risk that with Gideon’s coordinates in his pocket. “I had to make many unpleasant decisions.”

“Yeah, you did,” Mayfeld agrees. There’s a tense pause that nearly makes Din squeeze his eyes shut again as his fingers flutter nervously around the cup. “Entire city gone in moments, along with everybody in it.” Din nervously glances at Mayfeld and then Hess, trying to read their expressions. Each of them seem indifferent, as if the tension Din’s sensing doesn’t even exist at all. That only worries him more. “We lost our whole division that day. Man, that was like five to ten thousand people.”

 _Now’s not the time_ , Din wants to say, but the more he hears about what Mayfeld went through the more he sympathizes for him—and desires to see Hess suffer for whatever he did. But it’s too risky; it can’t happen here. “Yep,” Hess finally responds. “All heroes of the Empire.” He sounds almost optimistic as he speaks.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld nearly scoffs. “And all dead.”

At his words, Din immediately turns his head and gaze towards Mayfeld, his brow furrowed and his eyes widened even more than before as he slowly shakes his head at him. _We can’t do this right now_ , he tries to say with his face. _Keep your cool._ Meanwhile, Hess has started to respond already. “Well, it’s a small sacrifice for the greater good, son,” he defends himself.

Mayfeld frowns and pretends to consider his words. “Depends on who you ask, don’t you think?”

Din feels nothing but pure mortification now as the tension only rises. “What you gettin’ at, trooper?”

“All those people, the ones who died… was it good for ‘em?”

Din hates to admit it, but he knows that if you were here right now, you’d be agreeing with him—and that’s the only way he can keep himself calm right now.

“Hmm? Their families? The guys I served with?” He pauses, lifting his brow and letting Hess reflect carefully on his words. “Civilians, those poor mud scuffers, died defendin’ their homes, fighting for _freedom_. Was it good for ‘em?”

Din nervously looks towards Hess as he awaits his answer. His hands have started to shake again as his foot almost starts tapping against the floor. “But we’ve outlasted them, son,” Hess finally remarks. “They’re eatin’ themselves alive. The New Republic is in complete disarray, and we grow _stronger_.”

Hess pauses. Mayfeld’s anger is nearly tangible and Din can feel his own rising as well—though he still tries to control it. He can’t help thinking of how your home, _his_ home, was destroyed, and that the Imperials most likely viewed that destruction in the same way Hess does. It nearly makes him sick, yet he still prays to the Maker that Mayfeld can keep his cool.

“You see, with the rhydonium you’ve delivered,” Hess continues, “we can create havoc that’s gonna make Burnin Konn just _pale_ by comparison.” Din clenches his jaw, having the same thought as before: if his family’s lives weren’t on the line, Din would’ve let himself burn with the rhydonium. “And then they’re gonna turn to us once again.” Hess pauses, leaning forward on the table as Din notices Mayfeld starting to lose it. “You see, boys, everybody thinks they want freedom—but what they really want is _order_.” Din catches Hess’ eye, dropping it soon after as he takes a quick yet meaningful breath. _Don’t listen to him_ , Din tells himself. _You can get revenge on as many Imps as you want on Gideon’s cruiser. Not here_.

At the thought of it, Din looks over at Mayfeld to check up on him. He can see the veins protruding on Mayfeld’s forehead as he struggles to contain his anger. Mayfeld won’t get to have such a release. His only chance is _now_.

“And when they realize that,” Hess goes on, “they’re gonna welcome us back with open arms.” A tense silence ensues as Din watches Mayfeld attempt to keep his composure while Hess reaches to lift his drink. “To the _Empire_.”

Mayfeld looks around and chuckles softly, finally doing just as Din’s feared he would: he breaks. Quickly, he unstraps his blaster, blasting Hess before he can stop himself. Din watches his body fall to the floor and then looks over at Mayfeld, his eyes widened in complete horror and disbelief as a tense silence fills the entire room. Mayfeld looks just as concerned, especially as he looks around the room. Din turns around in his chair to see that every other Imp in the room has frozen.

That’s when Mayfeld makes the move to start shooting them. Din’s still without his blaster and so he kneels down to steal Hess’. Din can hear Mayfeld shooting up the room, causing Din’s hands to work more quickly as he reaches for the blaster. Soon, Din stands and blasts the last one, releasing a breath as he lowers his weapon.

Now that there’s no immediate threats, Din looks almost shamefully towards Mayfeld, now having to come to terms with the reality that someone he once considered to be his enemy has seen his face. He expects Mayfeld to rub it in his face, to give him an “I told you so” along with some kind of taunt—but instead, Mayfeld reaches towards the table, grabbing the helmet and avoiding Din’s face.

“You did what you had to do,” Mayfeld assures him. He hands Din the helmet. “I never saw your face.”

Din looks up to make sure it’s not a trick. Instead, he watches as Mayfeld looks away from him, refusing to look at his face for longer than he’s already had to. A strong wave of gratitude washes over Din as he nearly smiles at Mayfeld, taking the helmet and setting down the blaster as he slides it on. With the protection of the helmet, Din heaves a sigh of relief, already feeling much more like himself as he picks up the blaster and starts to shoot at the incoming Imperials.

Mayfeld climbs up onto the windowsill behind Din and he’s quick to follow. Once they’re both standing there, Din looks over at him. “Ready?” Din questions, now swift in taking charge again as Mayfeld nods. “ _Go!_ ”

Together, they kick one of the metal panels out from behind them. They try to keep shooting even as they move out onto the ledge—right over the water. Din doesn’t even let the sight faze him as he instead thinks about getting to the roof as quickly as possible. _I’m almost there, cyar’ika_ ,” Din thinks as he kicks a blaster away from a trooper in the window and kneels down to blast him. _I’ll be coming for you soon._

 _Stay safe_ , Din finally hears your voice again as he lets Mayfeld pass him and start scaling the side of the refinery. _Don’t leave our children fatherless._

Din lets this memory motivate him as he tries his best to be both quick and cautious, climbing up behind Mayfeld as he stops every once in a while to get rid of the threats around him. Instead, he sees them getting sniped by Cara and Fennec, allowing him to focus on climbing.

“Let’s move,” Din instructs Mayfeld as he waits underneath him.

“The hell you think I’m doin’?” Mayfeld snaps, climbing over the top of the wall as he lands himself on the roof. Din follows just after, clearing it in a swift motion as he looks up to see _Slave I_ approaching. They start to run like hell across the rooftop, only looking back to shoot anyone who follows. “Go go go go!” Mayfeld shouts, running alongside Din as they hurry to where Boba’s opened the hatch just off the rooftop.

With two steps and then a large jump, Din easily makes his way onto _Slave I_ , soon turning to help Mayfeld as he lands in a more unsteady manner. Din takes him by the arm and encourages him to enter the hatch, but Mayfeld stops as he looks back and notices something. As Boba starts to fly away, Mayfeld gestures towards something in the hull.

“Hand me that cycler rifle,” Mayfeld says and Din doesn’t hesitate to comply, feeling much more trustworthy of his partner now. Mayfeld takes it and instantly starts to aim, keeping his shot pointed towards the refinery as Din wonders what exactly his target is. Then, with one shot that should’ve been unsteady thanks to _Slave I_ ’s movements, Mayfeld pulls the trigger and blasts the rhydonium—thus destroying nearly the entire refinery. Din tilts his helmet as Mayfeld turns around, offering Din a semi-guilty look as he stops in his tracks. “We all need to sleep at night,” he mutters, now fully entering the hull as Din follows him.

Din and Mayfeld take their seats in the hull, waiting until they’ve reached solid ground again to change out of their Imperial suits. They’re caught off guard when Boba speaks to them. “We got company,” he announces. “Hang on.”

Immediately after, the ship veers to the left, causing Din and Mayfeld to nearly go with it as Boba tries to get them off his tail. He drops what must be a seismic charge from his ship, clearing the TIE fighters in a quick motion as Din heaves a sigh of relief.

Once they’ve landed further away, Din immediately stands up, finding the cloth sack full of his armor as he makes his way into the compartment Mayfeld used before. As he gets back into his trustworthy suit of beskar, Din can’t help wondering if he even deserves to put it back on again. Technically, he shouldn’t: he’s shown his face to someone who wasn’t in his clan—a _few_ people, at that. But then Din thinks of the Mandalorians on Trask and how they didn’t seem to have a problem removing their helmets whenever they wanted. Din saw them fight and they certainly functioned like true Mandalorians.

The galaxy’s in as much disarray as ever, and so for this once, Din will accept the fact that he did what he had to, and that he _does_ deserve to wear his helmet of beskar.

Before he does, Din looks down at his ungloved hand, catching the glint of beskar on his finger as he dares to press a kiss upon it. Your location is in his hands, now, and absolutely nothing will stop him from getting to you and your son—and the child within you. Everything else can wait, even the trauma of removing his helmet in front of others.

Din then slips on his helmet and takes a deep breath, exiting the compartment as he sees Mayfeld also dressed in what he was wearing before. They nod at each other and descend the hatch, meeting Cara and Fennec who are just emerging from the woods.

“Well, looks like it’s back to the scrap heap,” Mayfeld sighs as he walks alongside Din, facing Cara while Fennec heads back to the ship.

“Thank you for helping,” Din says in a genuine manner, nodding towards Mayfeld.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld responds, nearly avoiding his gaze as he nods in return. “Uh, good luck gettin’ your family back.” He hesitates, his gaze meeting Din’s visor as he looks upon him. “I’m, uh, I really am sorry for what I did to your wife before, you know. There were a few nights where I didn’t sleep well ‘cause of that.”

Din’s gloved fingers curl at his side as he tilts his helmet. “I appreciate your apology,” Din remarks. “I’m… sure she would, too.”

Mayfeld simply bows his head, looking at Cara as he reaches his hands forward. “All right, Officer, take me back.”

Cara simply takes a breath, tilting her head at Mayfeld. “That was some nice shootin’ back there,” she informs him.

“Oh, you saw that?” Mayfeld nearly scoffs. “Yeah, that, uh, that wasn’t part of the plan. I was just gettin’ some stuff off my chest.” He raises his brow and instantly the three of them all understand the same feeling.

Cara shakes her head a bit as she looks over at Din. They seemingly fall upon the same agreement. “You know,” she begins, “it’s too bad Mayfeld didn’t make it out alive back there.”

“Yeah,” Din agrees with a smile beneath his helmet, “too bad.”

Mayfeld looks between the two of them with confusion. “What are you talkin’ about?” he questions.

“Looked to me like prisoner number three-four-six-six-seven died in the refinery explosion on Morak.”

Din nods slowly as Mayfeld continues to look between them. “Does that mean I can go?” he asks. Neither of them provide an answer as Mayfeld pushes further. “Huh?” Cara takes a deep breath, not looking away from Din as she tries hard to hide her smile. “‘Cause I will.”

Din looks at Mayfeld and gestures with his helmet towards the woods, encouraging him to go. Mayfeld starts to walk away, pausing only to look back at Din and Cara and make sure he’s doing the right thing.

“All right,” Mayfeld says with a nod. “Okay.” He then continues ahead, disappearing into the undergrowth as Cara starts to address Din.

“You get the coordinates on Moff Gideon?”

“We did,” Din confirms. For now, he doesn’t disclose what happened inside the refinery.

“What’s our next move?” Cara questions.

Din takes a deep breath, his hands turning to fists at his sides as his eyes narrow behind the visor. “I scare the hell out of Gideon,” Din states firmly, “and then we find them and we make every _single_ person responsible for this suffer.”

Cara looks over at Din with a lift of her brow, smirking slightly as she nods and walks with him back to _Slave I_. Din can feel the rush of protectiveness from before come in full swing, now, as he holds on to the data stick that contains your very location—intent on making good of the words he’s just told Cara as he reassures himself with the idea of _fully_ avenging his family once and for all.


	42. The Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess continues fighting for her family as Din prepares to do the same.

You’re awakened by the sound of your cell door opening. Quickly, you sit up, ignoring the ache in your body from all the stormtroopers you’ve killed over the past countless amounts of hours. Gideon’s continuously sent them in between his own moments of interrogation, allowing them to do what the others had attempted to before. They never get far before you take them out, but the process is getting exhausting—mentally and physically.

You try your best not to gnaw at your blood-encrusted lip as two dark troopers approach you, taking you by arms and forcing you to stand from the bench in your cell. Thanks to the quick change in positioning, your head spins a bit, and it takes you a few steps to be steady as they start to take you out of your cell for the first time since you boarded.

“Where are you taking me?” you demand, wishing your voice didn’t sound so hoarse as you narrow your eyes at the droids. When you receive no answer, you start to wrestle in their grasps. “ _ Where  _ are you  _ taking me? _ ”

“The bridge,” the female officer you’ve come to know finally tells you. You stop fighting to look at her as she approaches, her hands tucked behind her back as she falls in step beside the droids. “There’s a message that the Moff would like you to see.”

Your heart drops into your stomach as you tighten your jaw, nodding as you look straight ahead again. You know there’s no use in fighting the droids off, now—and you’re terribly curious to see what kind of message Gideon would want you to view. Something in your heart hopes that it’s the person you’ve been waiting to see, but your mind tells you otherwise.

When you get to the bridge, Gideon’s already awaiting you there. His gaze instantly pierces through your own, and though it’s as sinister as ever, there’s also a hint of something you’ve had yet to see from him:  _ fear _ .

“Ah, princess, you’ve finally joined us,” Gideon greets, smiling in his signature manner as he uses his hand to command the troopers to stop you where you are. You grimace at Gideon, refusing as always to give him the satisfaction he craves as he lifts his chin at you. “There’s something I’d like you to see.”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can question him, Gideon pulls up a hologram. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of your husband, his blue holographic image staring at you as your eyes widen and your mouth falls open.

“ _ Moff Gideon _ ,” Din says. His voice threatens to make you weep as you tighten your jaw. “ _ You have something I want. You may think you have some idea who you are in possession of, but you do not. Soon, they will be back with me. They mean more to me than you could  _ ever  _ know _ .”

Din’s words—especially his last few—are delivered in a manner that’s so menacing yet so full of meaning that even  _ you  _ are fearful of his intentions. Still, you can’t help smiling in a sly manner, looking back at Gideon with a raise of your brow.

“So, now you’re preparing to reap the consequences of our capture?” you question, not bothering to keep the edge out of your tone. “You won’t be able to.  _ Nothing  _ can prepare you for whatever he’s going to do.”

“The consequences?” Gideon laughs, giving his head a shake as he seemingly brushes your words off. “He’s already failed. We’ve gotten the sample of blood we needed from the child.”

You narrow your eyes at him, frustration filling you. “Then why are you keeping us here?”

Gideon lifts his chin, smirking as he takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re an ex-Republic princess, are you not? Did your parents—Alacris and Valorosa—not side with the Rebellion, leading to their ultimate demise?”

Your eyes almost instantly tear up at the sound of the two names you haven’t heard in much too long. You nearly see red as you instinctively lunge towards Gideon, though you don’t get far thanks to the dark troopers’ grips on your arms. “Do _not_ speak of them,” you snarl. “You don’t even deserve to _think_ of their names.”

Gideon scoffs. “Please, Astra. You were lucky you didn’t perish with them.” He walks even closer to you. “Do you even deserve to have the life you have now? All that plotting with the Rebellion, letting even  _ children _ die in your acts of terror that aimed to overthrow a solid system of order? And somehow  _ you _ got to be the one who escaped it all?”

“Your act of terror is what killed not only my entire family, but my  _ home _ ,” you growl, nearly shaking in your anger. You know this is what Gideon wants, but you can’t help yourself—not with the knowledge of your own suffering as well as Din’s. “It was  _ your  _ Separatist droids who destroyed my husband’s home and it was under  _ your  _ command that his second home planet was also destroyed and plundered. Your reign over the galaxy was the only source of terror.”

Gideon starts to smile in victory and you curse yourself for giving it to him. “It’s all about perspective, princess. What matters now is that  _ you  _ have your clearances—ones that can prove useful to me.”

“I  _ used  _ to have clearances. I don’t think the New Republic will accept them anymore.”

Gideon touches your chin, making you jerk back as you try to escape his touch. “You’re the lost princess of Arilia, Astra. That’s something you can’t escape, no matter how much training you put yourself through—or who you’ve wed yourself to.” His gaze then falls to your stomach for a moment as he smiles more. “The spawn of a Mandalorian and a princess.  _ That  _ could prove useful to me, too.”

You grit your teeth, sneering at Gideon as you speak with a voice that’s as low and threatening as you can make it. “If you want our child, you’ll have to kill me for them.”

Gideon leans back with a face so serious it makes a chill run down your spine. “So be it.” You can feel your face falling as Gideon gestures to the officer beside you. “Get her clearances and then have her taken care of. Let Dr. Pershing know he’s been given another assignment.”

You want to flee, to fight, to  _ scream _ —but you refuse to give Gideon more satisfaction. Instead, you hold your chin up high, clinging to the strength Din’s always praised you for as the dark troopers and the officer lead you back towards your cell. You look at Grogu’s cell with longing as you pass it, your heart aching at the knowledge of the fact you truly  _ did  _ fail him.

As soon as you’ve entered your own cell, you decide to give yourself and your other child a fighting chance. Taking the troopers by surprise, you fall to the floor, pulling your arms from their grasps and rolling backwards over your shoulder. You’re kneeling now as you spin and kick your leg out to make one of the troopers fall to the floor, immediately turning to the other as you fight like hell for your family.

Your attempt is cut short as you’re suddenly blasted in the arm, causing you to cry out in shock and pain as you start to fall completely to the floor. The dark trooper that’s still standing catches you by your throat, causing you to gasp for air as he lifts you and forces you to sit on the bench. Your eyes sting with tears of pain and suffocation and instantly—for fear of hurting yourself and the child within you further—you give in to whatever they’re trying to do to you, your bound hands grasping at the dark trooper’s metal wrist as you silently plead for mercy.

“You live up to your bold reputation,” the officer tells you, though her voice is nearly hidden behind the roaring of your blood in your ears. You can feel your arm stinging as blood seeps through the material of your shirt. The officer leans down in front of you as she offers a threatening smile. “I suggest you stop struggling so much.”

You clench your jaw, narrowing your eyes as you manage to speak past the lump in your throat. “Even if I can’t save myself,” you begin, your voice tight and hoarse as the trooper’s grip remains, “my husband  _ will  _ avenge me, and you’ll regret  _ ever _ putting your hands on me.”

The officer simply keeps her smile, gesturing to the trooper to let you go. When he does, you nearly fall forward as you cough a few times, trying to catch your breath as the officer uses her hand to make you look up at her again. “He’s already failed you  _ two  _ times,” she reminds you. “I’m sure the third won’t be much different.”

Yet again, you’re nearly shaking with rage as she lets you sink forward again, but this time you use your own strength to sit back on the bench. As soon as your head meets the wall of the cell, you close your eyes, trying to push past the burning pain in both your arm and your throat.

“Now, we’ll be getting your clearances,” the officer informs you, and you briefly reopen your eyes to watch her reveal an IT-O Interrogation Unit. “Then, we’ll let you have a long, deep, and permanent slumber.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes once again. With only a single tear falling down your cheek, you keep your composure, saying a silent prayer to the Maker that Din’s rescue attempt will happen soon as you begin to give in to your fate.

Meanwhile, Din’s standing in the hull of  _ Slave I  _ as he offers Dr. Pershing a cloth soaked with bacta for his ear. They’ve just managed to seize the Imperial shuttle on which he was being transported, allowing Din and Cara to come aboard and take Dr. Pershing captive. The Imp who held the clone engineer managed to piss off Cara enough to make her kill him with a blaster bolt which happened to also get a hit at Dr. Pershing’s ear. Din, who knows the engineer at least partially cares for Grogu’s safety, allows him a chance to heal as they keep him cuffed.

“Thank you,” Dr. Pershing says in a fearful yet genuine manner, nodding and avoiding Din’s gaze as he lifts his bound hands to his ear.

“I’m… sorry that happened,” Din apologizes sincerely. “We didn’t mean for you to be harmed.” Dr. Pershing shrugs, evidently afraid of saying the wrong thing. Din goes on. “I…” he has to pause as his fingers curl up at his sides, willing himself the strength to push past his anger, “I appreciate you trying to keep the kid alive.” Dr. Pershing simply nods at that, still avoiding Din’s gaze as he stares at the floor. Din heaves a sigh and walks towards the cockpit, using the comms to reach Boba. “How long until landing, Fett?”

“We’re coming into the atmosphere now,” Boba responds. “You’ll want to stay strapped in.”

Din nods, taking his seat across from Dr. Pershing. Fennec and Cara stayed with the Imperial  _ Lambda  _ shuttle, keeping it as part of their plan to board Gideon’s cruiser. They follow  _ Slave I  _ as they descend onto their last stop before they launch the rescue, hoping to gain a few allies to assist with the mission.

Soon, the ship stops, and Din rises from where he is to meet Boba who’s leaving the cockpit. Din looks over when he hears Cara and Fennec boarding, nodding at them and then gesturing to Dr. Pershing.

“Keep an eye on him,” Din commands. They both nod as they remain in the hull, allowing Din and Boba to make their way off the ship and into the small town that awaits them. The cantina they tracked them to is just ahead and Din’s grateful for the easy spotting as his eagerness to free the two of you rises.

When Din and Boba step inside, they stop to scan the room, instantly beginning to earn everyone’s attention—except for two. The blue-armored Mandalorians sit with their backs facing them, attending to their drinks in a nonchalant manner until one of them finally turns around. Din recognizes her as Koska, seated beside Bo-Katan who still doesn’t look away from her drink.

Din and Boba head straight to their table, an action which causes Bo-Katan to also turn around as they watch them approach. Once they stop, Din cuts right to the chase. “I need your help,” he confesses, staring pointedly at Bo-Katan.

She seems to assess him, sitting in silence for a moment before she speaks. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters,” Bo-Katan nearly snaps. “Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

Din has to try hard to hold back a sigh and a snarky response, remembering what’s at stake as he focuses on the task at hand. “They took my family,” Din informs her.

Bo-Katan’s eyes start to widen with concern and interest as she turns more towards Din. “Who?”

Din nearly growls when he says the name. “Moff Gideon.”

Bo-Katan releases a soft breath, shaking her head slowly as she turns to face the table again. “You’ll never find him.” Din’s hand tightens into a fist at his side with frustration. If she’d only given him the chance, he could’ve told her about the coordinates.

“We don’t need these two,” Boba insists with similar frustration to Din’s. “Let’s get outta here.”

Din and Boba start to face the door when Bo-Katan suddenly speaks again. “ _ You  _ are not a Mandalorian,” she sneers at Boba, staring him down in an accusatory manner.

“Never said I was,” Boba offers simply, returning the glance at Bo-Katan through his visor.

“I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk,” Koska adds, lifting her chin at Boba as if to challenge him.

Boba starts to chuckle lowly as Din tightens his fists even more.  _ I don’t have time for petty arguments _ , he thinks to himself.  _ My family needs me _ . Instead, he’s forced to watch Boba walk up to Koska, meeting her challenge as he speaks. “Well, if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” Koska stands briskly to face Boba, moving around as if she’s preparing to fight. “Easy there, little one.”

“ _ You’ll  _ be talking through the window of a  _ bacta tank _ ,” Koska insists, getting in Boba’s face with each hostile word.

“All right,  _ easy _ ,” Bo-Katan attempts to break up the brewing fight. “Save it for the Imps.”

Finally, Koska sits, and Din nearly sighs as he goes on. “We have his coordinates.”

Bo-Katan looks at Din with disbelief. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser,” Din explains. “It could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Boba scoffs. “ _ Mandalore? _ ” He starts to walk closer to Din. “The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

“You are a  _ disgrace  _ to your armor,” Bo-Katan seethes.

Slowly, Boba turns his head to face Bo-Katan. “This armor belonged to my father,” he tells her.

“Don’t you mean your  _ donor? _ ”

Boba now walks closer to where Bo-Katan sits. “Careful, princess,” he warns her.

Both the Nite Owls now stand as Din feels tempted to sigh yet again. As per usual, Mandalorians are getting ready to fight each other rather than their common enemy. “You are a  _ clone _ ,” Bo-Katan taunts. “I’ve heard your voice  _ thousands  _ of times.”

“ _ Mine  _ might be the last one you hear,” Boba retorts, causing Koska to finally swing at him with a bold punch. Boba dodges it and takes her by the side of her face, throwing her into the table beside them. Din rolls his eyes underneath his helmet and sighs, looking away as he hears the noises of their struggle.

When he focuses on you, Din suddenly feels a panicked fluttering in his chest, as if he can sense that something’s gone very wrong. He doesn’t know what and he doesn’t know how, but Din has the feeling that he  _ must  _ get to you as soon as possible, and that’s what makes Din face Boba and Koska with desperation as Bo-Katan still manages to speak up first.

“ _Enough_ , both of you!” she scolds them, causing Boba and Koska to extinguish their flamethrowers. “If we had shown half that spine to the Empire we would have _never_ lost our planet.” Slowly, Boba stands from where he’d been kneeling on the floor, catching his breath as Din still tries to do the same. Bo-Katan turns to face Din. “We will help you.”

“Good,” Din remarks. “Because we  _ need  _ to get—.”

He’s cut off when Bo-Katan steps forward to place her hand against Din’s cuirass, keeping him from turning towards the cantina’s entrance. “Only if we keep that ship to retake Mandalore,” Bo-Katan continues. “If you should manage to get your family and finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough,” Din agrees, causing Bo-Katan’s hand to fall from his cuirass. He’s about to urge them to leave again when Bo-Katan keeps speaking.

“One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me. It is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.”

“ _ Almost  _ anything,” Koska adds.

“It cannot cut through pure beskar,” Bo-Katan insists. Din thinks of his spear and his armor as she goes on. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will  _ finally  _ be within reach.”

“Help me rescue my family and you can have whatever you want,” Din remarks. “They are my  _ only  _ priority.” He then looks around at the entire group. “If we stand here any longer, something might happen to them.” Din gestures with his helmet towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”

Din leads the way back to  _ Slave I  _ as quickly as he can, getting ready to scheme up some plans with Bo-Katan, Koska, and the rest of the crew as they board. Instantly, Bo-Katan sets to work pulling up the diagram of Gideon’s cruiser. Everyone gathers around as she starts to speak. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser,” she introduces. “In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.”

“Your assessment is misleading,” Dr. Pershing suddenly speaks up, earning everyone’s attention as they stare at him with disbelief.

“Oh, great,” Cara scoffs. “An  _ objective  _ opinion.”

“This isn’t subterfuge,” Dr. Pershing insists. “I assure you.”

“Let him speak,” Bo-Katan commands lowly.

“There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board,” Dr. Pershing continues. “They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

“And my wife,” Din adds, slightly panicked at the fact he’s left her out. “Do they still have her? Where is she?”

“Yes, yes they do,” Dr. Pershing confirms. “I’m sorry, I just—I haven’t seen her yet.”

Din furrows his brow beneath his helmet as he takes a threatening step towards the clone engineer. “Yet? What do you mean _yet?_ ”

“Mando,” Cara calls for him, walking over to place a hand on his pauldron. “We don’t have time.”

Din sighs, nodding as he looks from Cara back to Dr. Pershing. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

“These are third-generation design,” Dr. Pershing answers. “They are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved.” He pauses before he finishes. “They’re droids.”

A knot ties up in Din’s stomach as he immediately turns around to face Cara, who’s since moved just slightly behind him. With her knowing how Din feels about droids—even if IG-11 temporarily improved his attitude towards them—she returns a glance that’s half as fearful yet also full of reassurance. Din nods to himself, remembering what he’s been telling himself ever since he left you with the dark troopers:  _ whatever it takes. _

“Where are they bivouacked?” Fennec asks. The question makes Dr. Pershing stand from his seat to approach the diagram more closely. Din follows him.

“They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay,” Dr. Pershing explains. He clicks the diagram to bring up a visual of the place he’s mentioned. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“How long to power up?” Fennec inquires further.

“A few minutes, perhaps.”

“Where is my family being held?” Din can’t help asking. “They’re… not together, are they?”

Dr. Pershing moves to bring up another part of the diagram. “This is the brig,” he tells Din. “The child’s being held here under armed guard. The princess is in the same hallway, also under armed guard—but in a different cell.”

“Very well,” Bo-Katan remarks as she studies the diagram. “We split into two parties.”

“I go  _ alone _ ,” Din insists lowly. He doesn’t want any of them to witness the things he’ll do to whoever he passes.

“Fine,” Bo-Katan agrees after she gives him a small look. “Phase One,  _ Lambda  _ shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we come in hot and emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune, and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver.”

“And me?” Din questions.

“We’ll be misdirection,” Bo-Katan explains, rising from her place near the diagram. “Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get your family.”

Cara finally speaks up from where she’s standing. “Those dark troopers? They’re gonna be a real pain in the ass.”

Bo-Katan leans back down to study the diagram. “Their bay is on the way to the brig,” she observes. She addresses Dr. Pershing when she speaks again. “Can he make it there before they deploy?”

“It’s possible,” Dr. Pershing confirms.

Fennec quickly moves to take something from the clone engineer’s pocket. “Here,” she says, handing it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.” Fennec nods at Bo-Katan with her last words, causing Din to also nod as he adds on.

“We’ll meet at the bridge.” Everyone nods to agree with him and that’s what seals off their plan. Bo-Katan leads Din, Koska, Cara, and Fennec to the  _ Lambda  _ shuttle as Boba stays with  _ Slave I _ . Once inside, Bo-Katan sets the coordinates for the cruiser, soon taking off and leading the way through hyperspace. Din’s nearly shaking with adrenaline at the idea of finally getting to the three of you.

As they wait, Bo-Katan begins to address everyone. “Moff Gideon is  _ mine _ ,” she emphasizes. She pauses to look over her shoulder at everyone. “Got it?”

“He’s ex-ISB,” Cara argues. “He’s got a  _ lot  _ of information. I need him _ alive _ .”

“I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me,” Bo-Katan assures her.

“Prepare to exit jump space,” Boba’s voice comes over the comms.

“Copy that,” Bo-Katan responds. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock—and your shots have to look  _ convincing _ .”

“Power up those shields, princess,” Boba responds. “I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons,” Bo-Katan warns.

“Don’t worry about me,” Boba insists. “Just be careful in there.”

“Exiting hyperspace in three,” Koska starts to count down, “two, one…”

The  _ Lambda  _ shuttle then jumps out of hyperspace as  _ Slave I  _ follows, shooting at their back as Din looks for something to hold on to. Just at the sight of Gideon’s cruiser, Din can feel his anger rising—and the urge to kill nearly overpowers him. Still, he resolves to pull his hand tight into a fist as the other hangs on tight to the ship, watching as Bo-Katan acts as well as she can.

“This is  _ Lambda  _ shuttle two-seven-four-three,” Bo-Katan states firmly through the comms, reaching the main cruiser. “Requesting emergency docking.”

Din grits his teeth as the shuttle rocks back and forth, avoiding Boba’s shots. Still, he has tunnel vision on the cruiser ahead, his heart threatening to fly through his chest at the idea of having the three of you back in his arms.

“ _ Repeat _ ,” Bo-Katan speaks again when they don’t answer. “Requesting emergency docking. We are under attack!”

“Copy,  _ Lambda  _ shuttle,” a female officer responds over the comms. “Request received.” She pauses before her voice appears again. “Stay clear of launch tube. Deploying fighter squadron.”

The crew looks around at each other before they watch the first TIE fighter get deployed. Bo-Katan and Koska steer the ship in that direction, aiming straight towards the fighter and their launch site. They barely manage to avoid getting hit by a second TIE fighter that flies out of it.

“Request denied!” the officer suddenly says. “Please clear launch tube until fighters  _ deploy! _ ”

“Negative!  _ Negative! _ ” Bo-Katan exclaims in response. “We are under attack!”

“Clear launch tube  _ immediately! _ ”

They get closer and closer to the narrow entrance of the launch tube—though Din doesn’t feel the same pressure everyone else does. He’s still thinking beyond this moment, anticipating what he’ll do once they make it. Din doesn’t consider a scenario where they  _ don’t _ . He can’t afford that.

“Hang on!” Fennec calls out as they activate the landing gear, soon sliding rather ungracefully into the launch tube. Din braces himself upon the back of Fennec’s seat as they go, only loosening his grasp once the ship finally stops. Immediately, the crew stands up, readying their weapons as they lower the hatch. Cara stops to look at Din, giving him a nod and a firm pat on the shoulder.

“You’ll get them,” Cara tells him. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Din nods. “Just be careful,” he responds.

Cara smiles at him, cocking her gun as she prepares to leave the shuttle. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mando.”

That makes Din smile underneath his helmet as he watches his friend follow the crew, taking out all the Imps in the hangar. Meanwhile, Din paces the hull to await his turn, taking shameful satisfaction in the sounds of the Imperials dying at the hands of his crew.

_ No _ . Din wants his revenge, but just like that day on the prison ship, he can’t give in to all his bloodthirsty desires. He’s not that man anymore.  _ You’re  _ the one who’s fully helped him to realize that.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to be merciful to them, either.

Din spends his time taking deep breaths as he forces himself to do what’s best for the plan. While his senses are screaming for him to kill anyone in his path, his mind reminds him that he has to do whatever’s best to get to you and Grogu as quickly and secretly as possible.

Din waits until the sounds of violence have long since faded from the hangar to make his way off the shuttle. He keeps his blaster drawn as he looks around, the spear on his jetpack nearly knocking against his leg as he makes his way down. When he doesn’t see anyone, Din starts towards the cargo bay, sticking to the shadows as much as possible.

Knowing his armor bears a similar color to that of the walls of the cruiser, Din constantly creeps around them, using them to his advantage as he lets his blaster lead his way through the hallways. Suddenly, he hears the commlinks of two stormtroopers, causing him to flee back around a wall as they start to run by.

Din can’t help himself—not this once. He  _ needs  _ to find out what condition you’re both in.

He checks for any security devices and, once he finds none, he blasts one of the troopers dead. Before the other one can even think about turning around, Din takes his spear in his gloved hand, kicking the trooper to the floor and hovering the blade over his neck.

“What did you do to them?” Din demands, his modulated voice low and malicious as he lets the tip of the spear dig into the trooper’s flesh.

The trooper gasps in fear as he tries to answer. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“The child and the princess,” Din snarls, dragging the spear along his neck to create just a scratch. The trooper cries out. “ _ What  _ did you  _ do  _ to them?”

“The child, I don’t know, but the princess, we— _ I _ couldn’t do much before they—!”

“Before they  _ what? _ ”

The trooper doesn’t have time to answer before Din hears more approaching. He curses under his breath and lifts his spear, easily running it through the trooper’s chest before he hangs it on his jetpack once again. Quickly, he drags both troopers behind the wall, hoping to hide their bodies for now another group of two runs by. Then, Din leaves them there, running as fast as he can to the cargo bay. He knows that stop to attempt interrogation slowed him down too much.

_ Focus _ , Din reminds himself. He can see the state you and Grogu are in if he’s fast enough.

Din gets stopped a few times as he has to hide from groups of stormtroopers and even a droid, causing his nerves to grow as the amount of time he spends away from the dark troopers’ bay grows. Eventually, he finds it, causing him to sigh in relief as he takes out the code cylinder. That’s when the doors start to open and Din realizes he’s been too late.

“No,” Din breathes, starting to dart forward. “ _ No! _ ”

He reaches the controls and places the code cylinder inside, something that at least starts to close the doors. Still, it’s not fast enough, and Din begins to shoot inside with panic as he attempts to keep them pressed back. Just when he thinks it might work, two metal hands manage to catch each door, pulling them apart just enough for the one dark trooper to get few—no matter how much Din shoots.

Now, Din realizes he must face off with his worst fear to save you.  _ Whatever it takes _ .

Before he even has time to make a plan, the trooper winds up and punches Din straight in his helmet. The blow forces him back so hard that the spear gets knocked off his jetpack as he slides into the opposite wall, groaning a bit as he tries to recover. Din leans up on his elbow and tries to shoot again, watching with horror as the trooper walks forward—completely unaffected. It’s even more terrifying than it was when he was in the air and struggling to get to you, having to sit there helplessly and watch as the trooper closes in on him.

Din tries to stand as the trooper comes closer, but the trooper just twists his wrist painfully and makes him drop his blaster. With their other hand, the trooper grabs Din by the throat, choking him and forcing him against the wall. Then, with their free hand, the trooper begins to punch Din in his visor repeatedly, forcing him further and further into the metal.

Din’s wide-eyed and fear-stricken behind his helmet, feeling just like he did as a child the moment that droid threw open the banker doors. He’s beginning to panic and his chest burns not just from the grasp of the trooper but also from his own anxiety. Din looks beyond the trooper and sees the others starting to punch the glass of the door, slowly but surely breaking their way out.

He closes his eyes as each punch yields a gasp from his lips.  _ I can’t do this. I can’t _ —.

That’s when the trooper suddenly makes a sound—no,  _ plays  _ a sound, and it’s the sound of your cry of agony. Something happened to you. And this trooper either witnessed it or caused it.

Din can’t let them get away with it. Even if he doesn’t think he can fight this trooper, he’s going to  _ make  _ himself do it, for you.

Din equips his flamethrower and lets it burn through the trooper’s inner workings, watching as it all lights aflame. The trooper at least stops his punching as he looks at Din, turning to throw him back towards the controls. Din lands ungracefully, but at least he’s in reach of the lever that’ll throw the trooper out of the cargo bay, causing him to grimace as he reaches up for it. Before he can pull it down, the trooper comes back over to him, once again throwing him away. Din’s just gotten on his knee when the trooper kicks him back, forcing him on his side and making him slide even further away. Din groans as he still tries to recover, watching the trooper pointlessly shoot his beskar. He looks down and engages his whistling birds, aiming them towards the trooper. They work only mildly, but that’s enough for Din.

With the distraction, Din reaches back to grab his spear, spinning in the same movement as he turns and forces it just under the trooper’s head. He presses as hard as he can into it, grunting with his efforts as he tries to decapitate it. Then, with a final push, the head comes flying off, and Din finally stands with a deep breath as he rushes back over to the cargo bay. He pulls down the lever and watches the troopers get sucked into space, causing him to release a deep breath of relief as he closes his eyes for a moment.

Finally— _ finally _ —he’s able to completely focus on you.

Din runs as fast as he can towards the brig, refusing to deny himself the gift of seeing you and Grogu hopefully unharmed as he makes his way there. The sound of your cry of agony continuously rings through his mind, motivating him to move as fast as his feet can take him to get to the three of you.

Once he gets to the brig, Din only sees one armed cell. He prays to the Maker that it means you’ve both been moved into the same cell, though he can’t focus long on that as he makes his approach. Din pulls his spear off his back and knocks the gun from one of the stormtrooper’s arms, holding him back with one arm as the other lunges forward to run the spear through the other troopers. When he sinks to the floor, Din spins around the trooper he still has, holding the spear with both his gloved hands as it presses it up against the trooper’s neck. He then pulls it tight, lifting the trooper off the ground as he still pulls it further and further back. Din doesn’t stop until he hears the trooper’s neck crack. Then, he releases him, letting his limp form crumble to the floor as he sheathes his spear and opens the cell door.

As Din clicks around the buttons, he can feel his heart flying in his chest. He’s aching to have the door open and to be met with both your and Grogu’s forms, smiling at him with relief before he can take you all into his arms and reassure himself of your safety.

Instead, as the door opens, Din looks to see that you’re missing from the room, with only Grogu present as his little hands remain bound. Above him—along with the glow of what must be the Darksaber—is the person Din’s been waiting to kill, his eyes glowing with a light of amusement that Din wishes he could destroy.

_ Moff Gideon _ .


	43. The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din faces off against Moff Gideon in eager search and vengeance of the princess.

Din freezes as soon as he steps across the threshold of the cell, looking through his visor at Grogu. When Grogu’s little head lifts higher and he spots Din, he coos in a worried manner, as if he’s fearful that a louder sound would cause Gideon to harm him. The thought of it alone makes Din want to drop Gideon where he stands.

Din’s boldness only grows as he draws his blaster, taking a few steps closer to Gideon and Grogu. His modulated voice is low and threatening as he speaks. “Where is she?”

“Drop the blaster,” Gideon remarks, only lowering the Darksaber closer to Grogu’s little head. Din’s stomach ties into a knot. “ _ Slowly _ .”

Unable to bear the thought of Grogu getting hurt because of him, Din places his blaster on the floor, leaving his hands lifted in temporary surrender.

“Now kick it over to me,” Gideon demands. Din does what he says with vigor, letting his hands fall back to his sides as he narrows his eyes. “Very nice.”

“Give me the kid,” Din commands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, “and tell me where you’ve hidden her.”

“The kid is just fine where he is,” Gideon insists. “So is she.”

Din’s about to respond in a much harsher manner when Gideon suddenly swings the Darksaber over Grogu’s head, causing his eyes to close as the brightness of the blade blinds him—and in fear of what Gideon might do. Din clenches his jaw as Gideon speaks.

“Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan.” Din’s helmet starts to straighten out at the name of his ally. “ _ Yes _ ,” Gideon laughs, “I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A  _ friendly  _ piece of advice: assume that I know everything.” The statement alone causes a shiver to go down Din’s spine. “Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

Din’s eyes start to widen behind his helmet. Somehow, Gideon must’ve seen his fight with the dark trooper—which means that  _ he  _ was most likely the one who told the droid to play the sound of your voice. Thus, Gideon  _ must  _ know exactly where you are, and for some reason he’s intentionally keeping you hidden. “Where is this going?” Din remarks, half with annoyance and half with dread.

“ _ This  _ is where it’s going. I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge seeking me  _ or _ , more accurately,  _ this _ .” Gideon lifts the darksaber for emphasis. “But I’m not there. And I imagine that they’ve killed  _ everyone _ on the bridge, being the murderous savages that they are—,” Din nearly lashes out just at the hypocrisy of Gideon’s words, “—and now, they’re beginning to panic.”

Grogu starts to coo with distress. Din’s heart sinks into his stomach at the sound of it. He can only hope that the little one didn’t suffer too much under Gideon’s watch—though his mind’s still too worried about you and your absence.

“You see, she wants  _ this _ .” Again, Gideon gestures to the Darksaber. “Do you know why?”

“All I want to know is where my—,” Din starts to say.

“Because it brings  _ power _ ,” Gideon goes on, as if Din hadn’t spoken at all. He pauses, as if he’s assessing Din for a reaction. Din simply stands there, tightening his fists in his effort not to try to do something he might regret. “Whoever wields this sword… has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.”

“ _ You  _ keep it,” Din mutters, unable to take Gideon’s monologue as he focuses on the one thing he’s always wanted. “I just want my family—starting with the kid.”

Grogu coos at that, looking up at Gideon as if he’s also waiting for an answer. Gideon looks between Grogu and Din a few times before he nods. “Very well.” He sheathes the Darksaber, offering a nonchalant shrug as he does so. “I’ve already got what I want from him.” Din’s blood turns to ice at his words.  _ Damn it _ . “His blood. All I wanted was to study his blood. This child is extremely gifted and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.”

Din and Grogu share a long look as Grogu coos lowly, as if he’s still worried for Din. He takes this as a sign to ask more about his  _ whole  _ family. “And what about her?” Din questions.

“Your wife?” Gideon seeks to clarify, causing Din’s helmet to snap back over to him.  _ How does he know?  _ “Well, she happens to also have a child who  _ could  _ be very gifted—thanks to this child’s blood.” Din can feel his face drop beneath the helmet at the idea of Gideon knowing about his unborn child. Before he can even think of reacting, Gideon starts to smirk. “Or, I should say,  _ happened _ .”

Din’s knees nearly give out at Gideon’s insinuation, but he refuses to jump to conclusions as gloved hands pull into tighter fists. “What do you mean,  _ happened? _ ”

“Never mind that for now,” Gideon remarks, looking between Din and Grogu again. “I can see your bond with this child. It’s quite amazing.” He shakes his head. “Take him. But you will leave my ship  _ immediately  _ and we will go our separate ways.”

“No,” Din nearly growls. “I’m not going  _ anywhere  _ without my wife. I won’t ask again— _ where is she? _ ”

“Take this child  _ first.  _ He will need the comfort when I tell you of her fate.”

Grogu coos in dismay at his words. Din’s heart threatens to fly through the beskar on his chest as he takes a step closer to Gideon. “Her fate?  _ What _ fate?”

“It’s not that hard to understand.” Gideon suddenly reaches into his pocket for something, tossing it towards Din and only giving him a quick moment to react and catch it. When Din observes it, he can already feel his eyes and throat burning: your beskar ring, fashioned in the same manner as the one he still wears on his finger. “She’s  _ dead _ .”

Din’s visor snaps back up at Gideon as his hands begin to shake with anger, adrenaline, and anxiety. He pockets your ring for now—keeping it with Grogu’s metal sphere—as he now steps as close as he can get to Gideon. “You’re lying.” Din can hear the tremor in his voice.

“And why would I lie about something such as this?”

Din tilts his helmet menacingly at Gideon. “I could never try to look inside the mind of someone as fucked-up as you.”

Gideon looks Din up and down. “Be careful, Din Djarin. Your emotions cannot afford to get the best of you.” He then looks down at Grogu. “Plus, the child is still here. You wouldn’t want to be a bad influence, would you?”

“He’s seen and heard worse.” Din slowly starts to reach for his spear. “And now he’ll hear you die.”

“Not before you join your wife,” Gideon snarls, reigniting the Darksaber before Din has the chance to even get a grasp on his spear.

Din manages to catch his first blow on his vambrace, nearly falling back with how powerfully Gideon’s struck him. He mercilessly continues, causing Din to move further and further back until they’re out of Grogu’s cell altogether. Din catches a hard strike on both his vambraces and—as Gideon reaches back for another—Din takes the opportunity to duck down and slide around Gideon on the floor to get some distance between the two of them. Gideon allows him time to recover as Din stands up.

“I hope you fight more valiantly than  _ she  _ did,” Gideon taunts. “She couldn’t stop crying out for mercy.”

Din nearly growls at his words, reaching back to take his spear in his hand as he lunges back in preparation for their fight. He knows Gideon’s still lying and he refuses to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“You heard her screaming yourself,” Gideon reminds him, lowering his head as if daring Din to make the first move. “She was not as strong as you thought she was.”

Those are the words that get Din to finally strike. He lifts the spear over his head and Gideon swings to meet his blow, causing the beskar of his spear and the Darksaber to clash as the metal simply glows red. Din then swings low, aiming for Gideon’s side as he also meets that blow. They go back and forth a few more times until they clash hard with the spear and Darksaber crossed between them. Din pushes hard, attempting to force the Darksaber back onto Gideon.

“You’ve  _ failed _ , Djarin!” Gideon exclaims with a sneer as they lean into each other. “You failed her  _ and  _ your children, just like your parents!”

Din can feel his lips trembling with his struggle not just to fight Gideon physically but also emotionally. He tries to get through to you, to somehow sense you like he did when he picked up Bo-Katan, but he  _ can’t _ . Din’s vision starts to blur as Gideon pushes off the spear, aiming low as Din moves to catch his blow. When Gideon goes up high, Din has to swing the spear up and over, forcing the Darksaber into the wall of the hallway. It creates sparks in the metal as Din braces the spear against his vambrace, scraping the wall while Gideon forces Din back.

“She  _ counted  _ on you!” Gideon continues to taunt him. “She cried everyday for you! How could you let her go—let them  _ all  _ go?”

Tears of hot anger and deep grief start to fall from Din’s eyes as he grips the spear harder, forcing Gideon to be the one who swings away from the wall. He aims for Din’s leg as Din meets him there. When Gideon reaches back to swing again, Din kicks him back and—in the same motion—kicks the spear over his back to meet the rest of Gideon’s blow.

Din fights harder when he suddenly pictures you in his mind, your tearful eyes and joyful smile as you looked up at him like he was the only person in the galaxy after you confirmed the news of your pregnancy. He would do  _ anything  _ to see that again—and even if he’s too late, he’ll do whatever it takes to avenge it.

Din turns quickly and throws the end of the spear towards Gideon, forcing him backwards as Din gathers his bearings. His teeth are gritted as silent tears continue to fall down his cheeks. Din launches his fibercord whip to wrap around Gideon, who cuts right through it with the Darksaber to let it fall to the ground. Still, it buys Din time to prepare for Gideon’s next big blow, which Din meets by lifting one hand over his head and using his other vambrace to brace the spear as it’s impacted.

“Face it,” Gideon sneers, “ _ you’re  _ to blame for her demise.”

When Gideon leans back to strike again, Din catches it only using his vambrace. “ _ No _ ,” Din seethes, his voice firm and confident as he pushes the Darksaber away and uses both his hands to lunge with the tip of the spear for Gideon’s throat. Gideon catches it in his hand, though it gives Din the opportunity to push him back until he can kick him against the wall, causing Gideon to lose his grip on the spear.

Gideon’s got fear in his eyes now as he tries to strike again, but Din moves first, and Gideon has to free a hand from the Darksaber to instead reach for the beskar spear and keep it away from himself. When Din pulls back on the spear, it causes Gideon to move with it, freeing the Darksaber from his hand as it flies further down the hallway. Finally, Din hits Gideon in the face with the edge of the spear, forcing him to the floor as Din stands over him with the tip of the spear aiming towards his neck.

“I did  _ exactly  _ what she told me to,” Din finishes his thought from before, both his and Gideon’s chests heaving as he keeps Gideon pinned to the floor. “I’m not the one to blame. It’s  _ you _ —you and your corrupted idea of what the galaxy needs.” Din shakes his helmet, feeling another tear escape his eye as he goes on. “People don’t need to be forced into submission. They don’t need power. They need a  _ home _ . My family is mine.”

Gideon simply smirks up at Din. “It  _ was  _ yours.”

It takes the tightening of every muscle in Din’s body not to kill him as he remembers what Cara said:  _ I need him alive _ . Instead, Din flips the spear and hits Gideon’s head with the end of it hard enough to knock him out. With a deep breath, Din kneels and takes his binders from his belt, hooking them around Gideon’s wrists as he leaves him there. Shakily, Din rises back to his feet and makes his way to where the Darksaber is, hooking it on his belt and hurrying back into Grogu’s cell.

When Grogu catches sight of Din—alone and alive—he coos happily, temporarily causing Din to smile as he hurries over and frees Grogu from his restraints. Immediately, the baby reaches out towards Din, who accepts him in his arms as he keeps kneeling on the ground. Grogu encourages Din to rest his helmet against his forehead as Din clutches to him desperately, his eyes falling closed as he sheds a few more silent tears of mixed relief and grief. This still isn’t the reunion he pictured. His whole family isn’t here.

Grogu seems to somehow notice Din’s emotion even through the helmet as he pulls away, cooing sadly and tilting his head at his father. Din swallows hard, freeing one hand from Grogu to reach into his pocket and take out your ring. With a trembling breath, he shows it to Grogu.

“Grogu,  _ ad’ika _ , I’m so sorry,” Din whispers, his modulated voice breaking as he watches Grogu’s ears fall to his sides. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here in time.” Din swallows back a cry, willing himself to be as strong for his son as you always were as he rests his helmet upon Grogu’s head. “ _ Ni ceta _ .”

Grogu releases a long coo, gently taking the ring from Din’s hand. Softly, he hits it against the beskar of Din’s helmet, as if he’s trying to get his attention. Din raises his head, watching as Grogu holds the ring between both his fingers. He starts to close his eyes and Din can slightly sense the strange energy that usually surrounds Grogu whenever he’s using his powers. Quickly, Grogu reopens his eyes, cooing loudly as he gestures with his hand to the door of the cell. Din turns and looks, half expecting to see you standing there. Instead, he sees nothing, and he looks back at Grogu.

“What is it, Grogu?” Din manages to keep his voice even this time as he buries his sorrow.

Grogu once again coos—this time, even louder—and points towards the door. Din nods, rising from where he’s been kneeling to walk out of the door. All he sees is Gideon still laying on the floor, a sight that Grogu softly laughs at. Din shakes his head at his son, having to hold back his own chuckle as Din bends down and uses his free hand to take Gideon by his ankle. He drags him into Grogu’s cell, locking it up for now as he goes wherever Grogu’s taking him.

As they walk through the halls, Grogu continues to coo and point, leading Din to some unknown destination. His heart’s started to beat faster with each step as he anticipates Grogu somehow knowing something Din doesn’t, somehow knowing where  _ you  _ are—even if you truly haven’t made it. Din walks as quickly as he can, especially once they get into a wing that Din can identify all too well: the medbay.

Din’s picked up into a run, now, as he enters the large room, his heart nearly falling out of his body when he spots your motionless form on a table at the center of it. There’s no one inside, as if they’ve all abandoned you. Din hurries to your side and sets Grogu down on a nearby table, causing him to coo sadly as Din focuses on you. He’s horrified to see what appears to be such lifelessness within you, with your wrists and ankles bound to the table. Din’s gloved hands grasp the sides of your face as he leans down to face you.

“ _ Cyar’ika, ner kar’ta _ ,” Din calls for you, his voice beginning to break again in his desperation. “Can you hear me?” When you don’t respond, Din starts to raise his voice. “ _ Rid’ika, please!  _ Answer me!”

Din can’t have this. It was one thing to hear Moff Gideon say it, to be able to believe that it was a lie, but to have to  _ see  _ it on his own is too mortifying for his own good. Din thinks he might break apart for good if he doesn’t meet your gaze or hear your voice soon.

“What did they do to you?” Din questions brokenly. He runs his thumbs over your cheeks. “How can I fix it,  _ riduur?  _ Please, just…” Din heaves a breath, biting his lip to keep himself from breaking down in Grogu’s presence, “just  _ tell me _ .”

When you still don’t answer, only continuing to lay there motionless in Din’s hands, he lets just the small hint of a sob slip past his lips as he gingerly rests his helmet against your forehead. He’s so used to meeting your gaze so full of love and care that having to partake in this gesture without it makes it feel so  _ wrong _ . Still, Din can’t help himself, drawing a long breath from his suffocating lungs as he softly sets your head back down onto the table.

“ _ Ni ceta, cyar’ika _ ,” Din apologizes, his voice nothing but a weary breath that barely crackles through his modulator.

Din reaches down and over to free your wrists, soon doing the same to your ankles so that he can at least hold your body more closely in his arms. This movement causes Din to notice the blaster wound on your right arm, one that no one even bothered to bandage, and he tightens his jaw just thinking about what could’ve caused it. He props your head up using his elbow, looking upon your face with a bittersweet smile. Din uses his free hand to gently trace the scar that runs across your face, also tracing some of his favorite features—the outline of your eyes, your nose, and your lips.

“You… have always been so strong and _so_ beautiful, _rid’ika_.” Din’s lips tremble as he takes one of your hands in his, lifting it to his helmet as he lets you cup his beskar cheek. “I will never forget that.” Din slips your fingers beneath his helmet like he did that one day back on the _Crest_ , back when everything felt so much simpler than it does now. He closes his eyes and kisses your cold fingers, wishing he could make them warm again. “Thank you for being strong even when I wasn’t.” Din reopens his eyes, his throat burning and aching for him to weep as he insteads remains as strong as you always were. “I love you— _so_ much.” He heaves a breath as his visor looks to your stomach, concluding that your child’s met the same fate as you. “ _Both_ of you.”

Before Din has a chance to think about his emotions again, he feels a tugging on his boot along with a long coo. Din sets you back upon the table gently as he looks down, seeing Grogu staring up almost desperately at him. His heart breaks for his son as he bends down to pick him up, letting him also look upon his mother for the last time. Instead, Grogu leaves Din’s arms, crawling onto your form as he first lays a hand upon your stomach. He closes his eyes, his strange energy filling the room once again as his other hand holds tight to your ring.

Suddenly, Grogu’s eyes reopen as his ears perk up high on his head. He coos happily at Din, as if to tell him that he still senses the baby’s life within you. It causes Din to smile with relief as he also releases a gentle breath. Din helps him climb up the other way as Grogu rests his forehead against yours, seemingly doing the same thing. When Grogu sits up, his ears move a bit on his head, and he coos lowly as if he’s deep in thought. Din creases his brow. “What do you mean, buddy?” Din urges him. “Is she okay?”

Grogu turns towards Din, reaching out his free hand towards him. Din tilts his helmet, confused as to what he’s reaching for. Grogu snorts and points to one of Din’s gloved hands. Din lifts his hand and lets Grogu take one of his fingers, easing his hand onto your forehead. Grogu slips the ring in the space between Din’s forefinger and thumb and lets it sit there. Then, with as much focus as Din thinks he’s ever seen from Grogu, he sets one of his hands over Din’s—and immediately, a strong wave of his energy pushes through the room.

Din watches with amazement as the ring underneath his fingers begins to glow with a halo of blue light, similar to that of the Force-field Grogu had surrounded himself with on Tython. Grogu’s body starts to shake only mildly as he works and Din can nearly feel his own hand vibrating thanks to his powers. There’s a warmth in his chest that’s starting to replace the coldness, as if that feeling of his connection to you is finally coming back. Din’s hopeful as he keeps his gaze fixed on your eyes, intent on watching them open.

This time, the galaxy allows him such a luxury.

Your eyes fly open and Din thinks his heart’s leapt right into his throat. The sound he makes can’t even be registered as Grogu sits back on your chest, smiling even amidst his tired daze while Din takes the ring and sets it aside. He then holds your face again, watching as you blink at him a few times in disbelief.

“Din?” you ask, your voice soft yet hoarse.

Din gets choked up again just at the sound of your voice saying his name, something he’s craved for longer than he even knew. He nods, running his thumbs over your cheeks. “Yeah,  _ cyar’ika _ ,” Din confirms in a tight voice. “It’s me—it’s Din.”

Your eyes start to water just like his as you smile with relief. “ _ Din _ ,” you repeat yourself, this time with more emotion as you place one of your hands over his. Din can’t wait any longer to take his entire family into his arms, carefully scooping the tired Grogu in one arm as he supports you with the other. You bury your face into the cloth of his neck as Din rests his helmet upon your head, the two of you weeping with joy and relief. Even Grogu coos and whimpers as he nestles his tiny face into Din’s shoulder. Both of you try to get as close as possible, desperately clinging to each other as you relish in the feeling of being together again—and, above all, being  _ safe _ .

You lift your face, and before Din can even think of saying anything, you reach for the sides of his helmet and raise it up just enough to press your lips against his. Din melts into you, cupping your cheek as he nearly weeps again at the beautiful feeling of your love. It fills every inch of his being, tying each broken vein of his heart back together as your tears also join together over your lips. When you both pull away, it’s with shuddering breaths, and you smile together as you press your mouths together one last time. You let Din’s helmet fall back over his face as you pull his helmet to your forehead.

This time, Din  _ does  _ get to see your loving and caring gaze.

“I’m so sorry,  _ rid’ika _ ,” Din immediately starts to apologize, using his thumb to brush the tears off your cheek. “I should’ve been here sooner, I just—.”

“Din, please,  _ don’t _ ,” you chastise softly, pressing a kiss to the palm of his gloved hand. “I told you to take care of yourself. My only hope is that you did just that.”

“I tried.” Din chuckles a bit as you do, too. He shakes his head. “I’m fine, all right? But,  _ ner kar’ta _ , what did they do to  _ you? _ ” Din’s voice threatens to break a bit, though he’s glad to at least observe that Grogu’s powers fixed your blaster wound.

You run a reassuring hand over his beskar cheek. “I’m sure it looked a lot worse than it actually was, my love.” Din smiles at the endearment, rejoicing yet again to himself at the fact that he gets to hear you say it again. “They just put me to sleep—well, a ‘long, deep, and permanent sleep’ is how they described it to me.”

“ _ Permanent? _ ” Din scoffs, clenching his jaw as he closes his eyes. He has to remember that he’s got Gideon unconscious and locked up in a cell and his crew’s taken out the rest. “Why did they want to do that?”

“The baby.” Your brow suddenly furrows as you look down at your stomach. “I—I hope they’re okay, I don’t know what they—.”

“They’re  _ fine _ .” Din sets a hand over your stomach, urging your forehead to meet his again. “Grogu sensed the life in you still. He was very happy about it.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, nodding as you close your eyes for a quick moment. “Good. I fought as hard as I could to make sure they were okay.”

“I know you fought bravely,  _ rid’ika _ .”

You smile when you reopen your eyes to look at Din again. “And so did you.” You press a kiss to his visor before continuing your earlier thought. “They didn’t tell me what they wanted to do with the baby. All Gideon said was that they could be of good use to him.”

Din suddenly remembers what Gideon had said to him earlier and he nearly gets sick at the mere idea of it. “Gideon told me something about Grogu’s blood. I… think he might’ve been trying to use our child as one of their experiments.”

You frown at his words. “I feared that.” You sigh as your gaze falls to your stomach again. “I’m just glad you got to us in time.” You then pull away from Din only to attend to your son. Grogu coos with delight when you take him in your arms and Din can’t help smiling at the sight of it. “Did you save me, my brave little Grogu?”

Grogu coos affectionately, giggling with joy as you kiss his head. His little claws grab at your face happily as he keeps you close for a few moments. Din’s pleased to see that his energy is filling him much faster than usual after he’s used his powers. Still, there are more things he needs to know before he gets Gideon and brings him to the bridge. “Did they do anything else to you,  _ cyar’ika? _ ”

You grimace, setting Grogu back in your lap as you look up at him. “Not really.” Your gaze falls your hand as it brushes over one of Grogu’s ears. “They never got the chance to.”

Din gently touches your chin with his gloved hand, tilting it up so that you’re facing him again. “The chance to do what?”

You swallow hard, avoiding his gaze as you whisper the words. “Touch me.”

Din’s hand that’s not on your chin tightens into a fist. “Touch you  _ how? _ ”

You finally meet his gaze behind the visor as you slightly lift your brow. “You know how.”

Din’s hand moves from your chin to your cheek as he tries to comfort you. “ _ Rid’ika _ , I—.”

You rest a hand over the bottom of Din’s visor to silence him. “I killed every trooper before they had the chance to even get close. It’s okay.”

With a gentle breath of relief, Din brushes his gloved knuckles over the side of your face, smiling to himself in amazement of you. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Din gives you one more Keldabe kiss. “That’s my wife.”

You laugh at that, shaking your head as you look up at Din with so much love that he thinks he might just combust. “I love you, Din.”

Din smiles as he returns your glance. “I love you too, Astra. More than I could ever say.” He lifts his helmet to press a kiss to your forehead, finally pulling away as he reaches out a hand to take yours. “As much as I’d love to stay here and forget about the galaxy for a while, I left Gideon unconscious in Grogu’s cell—and I’ve got an eager Mandalorian waiting for me in the bridge.” As he speaks, he takes the ring he’d set aside earlier and slides it back on your finger.

You furrow your brow at Din as he helps you to stand up from the table. “Who?”

“Who else but Lady Bo-Katan?”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you reach around to hold Grogu in your arms. “Really?”

“Well,” Din starts as he leads the way from the medbay back to Gideon, “she  _ really  _ wants Gideon. Her and Koska agreed to help. So did Cara—and some others.”

You look over at Din with a bright smile. “Cara’s here?”

Din tilts his helmet at you. “Of course. You know she’d do anything for you—for  _ us _ .”

You smile, reaching for one of Din’s hands as he gladly entwines his fingers with yours. For this moment, Din doesn’t feel the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders anymore. He feels freer than he has in a long time. Finally, Din’s with his true home, and everyone is  _ safe _ .

But what he doesn’t know is that his goodbyes aren’t over yet—and the next one will arrive before he can possibly realize it.


	44. The Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clan Djarin struggles to complete the last step to fulfill their quest.

You keep one hand tight in Din’s as the other holds Grogu close. The baby’s since snuggled comfortably into your shoulder, just as relieved as you are to finally be reunited. Meanwhile, Din has Gideon’s limp form tossed over his shoulder, the weakness of the villain nearly making you laugh to yourself with some kind of sickened joy. Din seems to feel the same way as he gives your hand a squeeze, especially as you walk towards the doors leading to the bridge.

When the doors open and you step inside, you’re immediately met with the figures of four women. All of them are familiar to you but one, and one is  _ especially  _ familiar—causing you to smile as you meet their gaze.

“Cara!” you exclaim, hurrying over to where she stands to give her a warm embrace.

“Astra,” Cara responds with a breath of relief. “Thank the Maker you’re all right.” She pulls away to brush her hand over Grogu’s head. “And the little one, too.”

“His name’s Grogu,” you inform her, causing her to look at you with shock.

“How’d you find out?” Cara questions.

You look over your shoulder, watching as Din sets down the groggy Gideon onto the stairs just in front of a seemingly displeased Bo-Katan. “That’s a long story.” You quickly face Cara again with a reassuring look. “We’ll have to tell you more about it later.” Cara nods, understanding the point you’re making as you turn to face Din. You’re about to walk over when the sound of Bo-Katan’s voice stops you.

“What happened?” she asks, looking at Din with fear in her eyes. You furrow your brow in confusion of what she could possibly be afraid of.

“He brought him in alive, that’s what happened,” Cara answers from beside you. She walks over to Din to place a hand on his pauldron and you follow close behind her. “And now the New Republic’s gonna have to double the payment.”

“That’s not what she’s talking about,” Gideon suddenly says, causing you to freeze in place as you look down and notice Gideon’s completely awake now. Din immediately comes to your side, letting part of his cape brush over you in a protective manner. Meanwhile, Gideon and Bo-Katan share a tense glance. “Why don’t you kill him now and take it?”

“You’re lucky I need you alive,” Cara snaps as she gives Gideon a warning glance, “or else we’d kill  _ you _ .”

Gideon simply smirks, looking up to Din as he raises his brow. “It’s yours now.”

“What is?” Din questions, his tone cautious as you watch his hands turn to fists at his sides. You set a hand on the part of his back not covered by his jetpack for comfort.

“The Darksaber,” Gideon answers. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you look at Din. “It belongs to  _ you _ .”

“Darksaber?” you echo lowly, earning Din’s gaze through his visor. “ _ Riduur _ , what’s he talking about?”

Din sighs, reaching towards his belt to take something from it. You can recognize the hilt of a sword as Din suddenly ignites it, letting a dark, shining blade extend from it. “This,” Din informs you. “He fought me with this before I found you.” Din sheathes the blade again, stepping away from you only to walk towards Bo-Katan. “Now…” Din reaches out to hand the hilt to her, “it belongs to  _ her _ .” When Bo-Katan doesn’t make a move to accept it, you can feel your stomach tie into an unpleasant knot—especially when she only looks at Din indignantly.

“ _ She  _ can’t take it,” Gideon explains, as if he’s enjoying the tension. You know he is. “It must be  _ won  _ in battle.” Din looks down at Gideon with evident confusion. Grogu hides his face in your shoulder with a low coo and you comfort him by petting a hand over his head repeatedly. “In order for her to wield the Darksaber again, she would need to defeat  _ you _ in combat.”

Din looks at Bo-Katan with a tilt of his helmet. “I yield. It’s  _ yours _ .”

“Oh,  _ no _ ,” Gideon continues to taunt, chuckling with amusement and maliciousness.

You clench your jaw. “Someone shut him up already before I do it myself,” you mutter, earning a warning look from Din.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Gideon finishes his thought. He starts to stand up and you watch Cara step closer to him to keep him from lashing out somehow. “The Darksaber doesn’t have power. The  _ story  _ does. Without that blade, she’s a pretender to the throne.”

You watch as Bo-Katan looks with confliction at Gideon. Din’s helmet is still tilted, as if he’s pleading for her to just take the weapon from him. She doesn’t. “He’s right,” she confesses in a low murmur, still not looking away from Gideon.

“Come on,” Din insists with slight annoyance, “just  _ take it _ .”

Bo-Katan doesn’t move to take it and she doesn’t even meet Din’s gaze through his visor. Instead, the tension grows, and you’re about to step in when a rapid beeping suddenly tears through the silence. Everyone looks over to its source as Gideon speaks yet again. “Well, perhaps she’ll get another crack at it.”

“The ray shields have been breached,” the one woman in the room you don’t know informs everyone. You hold Grogu closer to you when he coos with worry. “We’re being boarded.”

“How many life forms?” Bo-Katan asks her.

The woman stands up to look at Bo-Katan with dread. “None.”

Your brow knits together in confusion as you move back to Din’s side, keeping your voice low enough for only him to hear. “ _ Riduur _ , who is that?” you ask him. “And what does she mean ‘no life forms?’”

“That’s Fennec Shand,” Din answers. Your jaw nearly drops as you recognize the name: the elite mercenary Din once hunted on Tatooine. He takes a deep breath when he looks back over his shoulder, unable to say more before Gideon beats him to the punch.

“You’re about to face off with the dark troopers,” he informs all of you. Your heart sinks as you hold in a breath. Gideon pauses to look at Din with slight amusement. “You had your hands full with one.” You can sense Din’s anger as he tilts his helmet menacingly at Gideon. “Let’s see how you do against a  _ platoon _ .”

You look over at Din with concern. “You fought a dark trooper?” you question.

“Yeah,” Din responds truthfully, “but I made it out fine.” Din clears his throat before going on—and that’s how you know it’ll have to be something you discuss later. “I threw them from the cargo bay earlier, but I… don’t think that did anything but buy us time.”

You shake your head, trying to soak in all this information. “A platoon of dark troopers—and  _ Fennec Shand?  _ But, wasn’t she… and how are they—?”

“I’ll tell you all about that later,” Din assures you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “For now, you and Grogu need to hide wherever you can.”

“No,” you insist. “I can fight. We both need to protect Grogu.”

Din tilts his helmet at you. “Are you sure?  _ Cyar’ika _ , it’s okay if you—.”

“No,  _ riduur _ , I promise you, I’m  _ fine _ —and I’m going to fight.”

“They’re headed this way,” Bo-Katan announces, catching both yours and Din’s attention.

“We need to find somewhere for Grogu to hide,” Din says and you nod to agree with him. You walk around all the control areas until you’re standing between one set of computers and the transparisteel of the bridge. From the doors, nothing as small as Grogu could be seen from around these devices, and so you kneel down to let Grogu sit there.

“You  _ have  _ to stay here, okay, Grogu?” you tell him, hearing him coo as his ears start to fall slightly on his head. You give him a reassuring smile and brush a hand over his ear. “We’ll be okay.”

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Din joins in, patting Grogu’s head affectionately. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

The two of you stand and leave your son where he is, walking out to join the others. You reach for your blaster just to realize that it’s missing—thanks to Gideon and his crew. “ _ Dank farrik _ ,” you breathe, looking up at Din. “My blaster’s gone.”

Din looks around as if he’s searching for ideas. You can tell he’s hesitant to give you one from the dead stormtroopers who litter the floor, so instead he reaches into his own holster and hands his blaster to you. “Take mine.” He reaches over his shoulder to take the beskar spear from his jetpack. “I’ll use this.”

You nod at him, smiling to yourself at the idea of him trusting you so much with one of his most-used weapons. It reminds you of the times he would train you with his pulse rifle, often while you laid low on Sorgan.

That small daydream is cut off by Fennec’s loud command. “Seal the blast doors!” she exclaims to Koska, who hits the button with aggression. Just after that, you can hear the faint marching of the troopers, causing you to take an even tighter grip on the blaster as you look nervously up at Din.

“They’re here,” Koska announces, grabbing her helmet as she walks away from the controls. The troopers begin to punch against the door, nearly making the whole bridge shake as they begin their attack. Fennec cocks her gun as the other two Mandalorians slide their helmets on and unholster their own blasters. You keep yourself in a ready position, pointing the blaster at the doors as Din keeps both his gloved hands braced on his spear. You can hear Cara behind you, also readying her bulky weapon.

“You have an impressive fire team protecting you,” Gideon speaks up. You look over at him with narrowed eyes, wishing you could kill him just from your glance. “But I think we all know, after a valiant stand, _everyone_ in this room will be dead—but me and the child.”

You can see Din look over at him with hardly hidden aggression before he turns back to the door, tightening his grip on his spear as he prepares to charge forward. Your finger hovers over the trigger as you watch the doors give way more and more to the troopers’ punches. Both you and Din share a brief glance that says more than your words can, especially as you nod at each other and stand a little closer.

If you die, you die  _ together _ .

Your thoughts are cut off by the sound of a rapid beeping coming from the controls. Everyone’s heads turn just to watch as an x-wing soars into view, flying straight past the bridge. “An x-wing,” Bo-Katan nearly breathes with relief, walking over to the controls.

“ _ One  _ x-wing?” Cara scoffs. “Great. We’re saved.”

“Incoming craft, identify yourself,” Bo-Katan states through the comms.

Nothing.

You and Din share a curious glance before you both look to where Bo-Katan stands, watching the security screen and seeing the x-wing fly right into the hangar. At the same time, the sound of the troopers’ punching stops, and you swear you can hear Grogu cooing from where he hides. You turn around to look for him, noticing that he must still be sitting exactly where you left him.

“Why did they stop?” Fennec questions as everyone shares a nervous yet curious look. You all start to move slightly closer to the doors as Bo-Katan continues to observe the security footage. There’s a few dull sounds that come from the footage, but other than that, it’s completely silent.

Then, Bo-Katan speaks again, her tone full of disbelief. “A  _ Jedi? _ ”

You and Din both look over at her immediately.  _ A Jedi?  _ Din looks at you and you return his glance. “Ahsoka?” you murmur to him. “Did she hear about Grogu?”

Din shrugs, glancing back at the door as he continues to prepare himself to fight. You do the same, not wanting to take the chance that the troopers will catch you off guard. You can still hear the Jedi through the footage and you swear you can hear Grogu cooing more and more, but you figure it’s just in your head.

Suddenly, there’s rapid movement in the corner of your eye, and you turn your head to see Gideon blasting Bo-Katan with a weapon he must’ve stolen from a stormtrooper on the floor. She falls out of his line of fire—leaving Grogu, who’s since moved from his hiding spot, out in the open and completely vulnerable to Gideon.

You can barely make a sound of protest before Din drops his spear where he is and dives in front of Grogu, taking each blast from Gideon against his beskar. The rest of you turn to point your weapons at Gideon, with your hand shaking now thanks to the adrenaline you’ve gained from the thought of what could’ve happened had Din not gotten to Grogu in time.

“Drop it!” Fennec demands, her voice threatening as you all surround him.

Gideon appears to consider his options as he looks around, his expression stern as ever before he suddenly moves to place his blaster under his chin. Before he can pull the trigger, Cara uses her weapon to knock the blaster from his hands and then knock him out once again. You holster Din’s blaster as you hurry over to your family, watching as Grogu climbs onto a chair and reaches his hand out to the security screen. You help Din to kneel up from the floor, your brow furrowed in concern as you hold one of his hands and use the other to support his back.

“Are you okay?” you breathe, trying to assess him for any wounds that the beskar might not have been able to prevent.

“Fine,” Din assures you, giving your hand a squeeze as his helmet turns towards Grogu. “Just…  _ relieved _ .” He looks at the screen. “And intrigued. This Jedi can’t be Ahsoka, they only have one laser sword.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then I wonder who.” You then look over at Grogu. “What did we say about staying where you were, little one? Huh?”

Grogu coos, turning to look at you and then tapping the screen. You realize that he must’ve sensed this Jedi and wanted to see them for himself. Still, Grogu’s ears fall in an apologetic manner.

“It’s okay, Grogu,” you assure him. “But you have to listen to us from now on.”

Grogu’s ears lift to acknowledge your words, though he continues to watch the screen. You and Din join him and your jaw nearly falls when you watch the Jedi exit the elevator, immediately tearing through each and every dark trooper like it’s nothing. When you look at Din, he’s almost as mesmerized as Grogu, and you wonder if he’s satisfied with the skills of this Jedi. If this is the one who’s meant to train Grogu, then he can obviously do a hell of a job at it—and at protecting your son.

Though, leaving your son isn’t something you want to think about right now.

The Jedi then walks offscreen and Grogu turns to look at you and Din. He raises his ears as if he’s seeking your approval of what you’ve just witnessed. You nod, smiling at Grogu as you reach over to pet his ear. Still, he coos and points towards the doors, as if he’s asking you to open them. Din stands up and takes Grogu with him, also helping you up as he turns to face the group.

“Open the doors,” Din commands, much to everyone’s surprise. They all narrow their eyes suspiciously at him—and no one does what he says. “I said,  _ open  _ the _ doors _ .”

“Are you crazy?” Fennec scoffs from where she still stands with her weapon in hand. Din walks forward and sets Grogu down in a chair closer to the doors, which you stand by as Din opens the doors himself. He nods at you and places a hand over yours, silently requesting that you stay near Grogu. You return his gesture and give his hand a quick squeeze, letting him walk forward more as the doors open.

The Jedi walks through the smoke with their laser sword still ignited, the green hue glowing as they step through the threshold. Then, they sheathe it, hanging the weapon on their belt before removing their hood. You see a man with piercing blue eyes and a friendly face, his hands soon falling to cross together respectfully. Grogu moves and you look down to see him peeking out from around his chair, though he doesn’t make a peep.

Din’s the one who speaks first. “You’re a Jedi?” His words come out as more of a question than a statement.

“I am,” the Jedi confirms. His voice is full of wisdom and warmth, reminding you fondly of Ahsoka’s. The Jedi doesn’t say more as his gaze shifts to Grogu. He extends a hand towards him and beckons him. “Come, little one.”

Din turns back to you and Grogu, though his visor remains fixed on his son. Grogu returns his look, cooing as he tightens his little hand on the chair. Din then looks back at the Jedi. “He doesn’t want to go with you,” Din insists. You can hear two things in his voice: one, the concern of a parent, and two, the panic of someone who can’t bear to lose a loved one. It makes your heart sink.

The Jedi simply stares at Din for a moment before he answers. “He wants your permission.” Din’s helmet straightens out on his head and you can practically hear the shattering of both your hearts. “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is _nothing_. I will give my life to protect the child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

Din nods and turns back around towards the two of you. You can practically see the breath stalled in his chest as he walks over to Grogu, bending down to take him in his arms. You join Din at his side and Din makes sure to keep you close even as he walks back to where he was before. “Hey, go on,” Din encourages Grogu. His voice starts to break in a way you recognize all too well—causing you to wrap your hands around Din’s arm for comfort. “That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your  _ kind _ .”

Din’s voice breaks even more on that word. You rest your head against his pauldron, watching as Grogu coos with sadness of his own. He starts to reach a hand out towards Din as his ears fall on his head.

“We’ll see you again,” Din assures him emotionally. “I  _ promise _ .”

Grogu keeps reaching his hand forward, touching Din’s helmet as if he’s asking to see his father’s face one last time. You start to shake your head at him. “Grogu,” you warn him softly. “You know he can’t—.”

“It’s okay,” Din insists, already beginning to lift a hand to his helmet.

“But, Din, there’s other—.”

“ _ Cyar’ika _ , it’s  _ okay _ .” Din pauses his movement to place a hand over one of yours, tilting his helmet at you. “This… isn’t the first time I’ve had to.” His words make your brow knit together in concern as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You said it yourself: I’m more than my Creed. He needs me.”

You nod slowly, willing to table the discussion for now as you let him do what he needs to. Din lifts his hand to the edge of his helmet again, slowly but surely lifting it from his head. He eases it down onto the floor beside him as he returns both hands to Grogu, never once breaking eye contact with his son. When you observe Din’s face, you can see the tears already collecting in his eyes, nearly causing your own to do the same as you stay strong for him. Though this goodbye is hard for you, too, it’s  _ so  _ much harder for Din—and you want him to be able to have this moment without worrying about you.

Grogu reaches out a hand to touch his father’s face, stroking his cheek affectionately as Din closes his eyes to absorb the touch. You hold in a breath, releasing it in a slow manner to keep your emotions at bay. When Din reopens his eyes, he manages to give Grogu a bittersweet smile, taking a quick breath before he speaks again. “All right, pal. It’s time to go.”

They continue to share an emotional gaze as Grogu’s ears fall more on his head. He whines and tucks his chin into his chest, a sure sign of his sadness. You lift a hand from Din’s arm to brush one of his ears while Din also tries to reassure him with his words.

“Don’t be afraid,” Din murmurs, causing Grogu to lift his head again. Din gives himself a few more moments before he slowly leans forward to press a kiss to his son’s forehead. Grogu coos with delight, his ears lifting nearly all the way on his head. Before Din sets him down, he reaches into the pouch on his belt, taking out what you recognize as the silver sphere from the  _ Crest _ . Wordlessly, Din offers it to Grogu, but instead the baby takes Din’s gloved fingers and closes them over the sphere, encouraging Din to keep it. He nods and places it back in his pocket, finally kneeling down to set him on the floor.

When Din stands back up, he takes a deep breath, unable to do much else when you both hear Grogu cooing anxiously again. The two of you look down and see Grogu nearly clinging to Din’s boot, looking up at Din with the affection and desperation of a loving child. The sight makes your own chest ache—and you can’t imagine how it must be making Din feel. The breath that gets caught in his throat is audible as you once again rest your head against his pauldron. This time, he also reaches for one of your hands, lacing his gloved fingers with yours.

Suddenly, the beeping of a droid can be heard as an astromech appears from around the Jedi. It’s white, blue, and silver in color, and it stops once it’s reached the Jedi’s side. The sound makes Grogu turn around curiously and you smile at his wonder. The astromech continues to beep as Grogu waddles closer, cooing both curiously and happily at it. They share an adorable interaction that makes you giggle to yourself.

“Astra,” Din suddenly calls for you, causing you to look from Grogu to him. His brown eyes are still full of tears he refuses to shed as he gestures with his head towards Grogu. “Did you want to say a proper goodbye?”

Before you can answer, you feel the gaze of the Jedi land upon you. “Astra?” he echoes your name, causing you to look at him. “Is that your name?”

“Yes,” you confirm, lifting an eyebrow almost suspiciously.

“I’ve… heard my sister mention that name before,” the Jedi confesses.

Curiosity sweeps through you. “Who’s your sister?”

“Leia.”

Your eyes widen with disbelief upon hearing the name of your old friend. “Leia? As in Leia Organa of Alderaan?” The Jedi nods and you smile wide, looking between Din and Luke. “She survived?”

“She did,” the Jedi responds. “I’m sure she’ll be very happy to know that you did as well. She assumed you didn’t make it.”

You continue to smile warmly. “Well, I’d love to see her again.”

The Jedi returns your smile. “I’m sure you can when you come visit the child.”

You share an excited glance with Din upon hearing that. His words allow Din a chance to speak up again. “We… can come see him?” Din breathes, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Of course. All you need to do is have your New Republic friend,” the Jedi gestures towards Cara, “escort you to the capital. Ask for Luke Skywalker and tell them you’re the child’s family. Once I know it’s you, I’ll let Leia know as well. I wouldn’t encourage frequent visits, only for the child’s ability to focus on his training, but you’re welcome to see him whenever you’d like.”

You nod eagerly at Luke. “Thank you so much. We know you’ll take great care of him.”

Luke bends down to pick Grogu up, nodding at your words. “I will.” He nods again, but this time he looks at Din. You also look at your husband, watching him return the gesture with tearful eyes. “May the Force be with you.”

Neither you nor Din can find the strength to respond as you instead watch Luke turn around, setting Grogu upon his shoulder. Grogu looks back at the two of you earnestly as he gets further and further away. When you glance at Din again, you can read all the emotion in him clearly: the pride he feels for his son going off to train, the strength he’s providing for his son who’s already missing his parents, and the pain he feels at having to lose this child he’s come to love. Din gives Grogu a small nod of encouragement as the free fingers at his side begin to fidget. You know he won’t be able to hold it together for much longer.

Soon, Luke and Grogu enter the elevator, turning to face you again. You offer a smile at your son as Din nods again, his grasp on your hand tightening in his effort to maintain his strength. The feeling is entirely bittersweet; you know, as parents, that you have to let your child go in order to let him grow, and while you’re proud of them for being able to do that, it hurts to have to lose them in such a way.

At least you won’t be alone for long.

The elevator door closes and immediately, you take a deep breath, blinking the tears out of your eyes as you turn to look at Din. He still can’t tear his gaze away from the elevator, his jaw set as the place below his eye begins to twitch in the way it always does when he’s about to cry. Your heart breaks as you momentarily turn towards Cara, watching her nod as she addresses the rest of the people in the room.

“We should sweep through the rest of the cruiser,” Cara suggests, “just to make sure we’ve really gotten everyone.”

You keep your gaze fixed on Din even as Cara, Fennec, and the Nite Owls head out of the bridge, entering the elevator once it’s available and descending to another level. For a moment, you start to break away from Din, moving to close the doors. Din, however, pulls you back to him, causing you to look at him again as his lips start to tremble. He shakes his head, silently requesting that you don’t leave him—not even for a moment.

“Din,” you call for him in a soft voice, and that’s all it takes for him to break. You take the back of his head and urge him to bury his face in your shoulder, threading your fingers in his hair as you close your eyes and try to soothe him. “I know, my love. I know it’s hard.”

Din keeps his arms wrapped around you, fisting the material of your vest in his gloved hands as he struggles not to release a cry. You give him the time he needs, not encouraging him to hold back nor to let it out. Eventually, he speaks with a struggling breath, his voice muffled by the material of your vest. “I… I wasn’t ready,” Din confesses, his voice threatening to break on each word as he holds you tighter. “I should’ve been ready.”

“It’s all right,  _ riduur _ .”

“I  _ just _ got him back,” Din laments, finally letting at least one sob spill out as you brush your fingers through his hair again. A single tear manages to escape your eye as you rest your cheek against Din’s head. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t  _ ready _ .”

You coo a few sweet nothings into his ear as you attempt to relax him, relieved when his heaving chest begins to slow into a smoother rhythm after a few moments. Only then do you begin to speak to him. “That’s the hardest thing about being parents, Din: we’re never quite ready for a moment like this.” You pause to kiss his head, pleased when the action causes his grip on your vest to loosen some. “But the fact that you still did it and that you didn’t try to hold him back? _That’s_ what matters.” Gently, you ease his head off of your shoulder, holding his face in your hands as you rest his forehead against yours. “Din, you’re an _incredible_ father. Everything you did to save him, everything you’ve done to keep him safe, dedicating months of your life to help him find his people…” you pause, smiling as you brush away his tears with your thumbs, “and that’s exactly what Grogu’s going to remember. Forever.” You lean forward to kiss his newest tear away. “He loves you so much.”

Din manages to smile at you, lifting a gloved hand to cup your face. “I love him, too.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I love  _ you _ .” His gaze falls to your stomach and hands follow, touching the sides of your stomach as his wobbling lips turn up into an even brighter smiler. “And I love…. I love  _ them _ .” You smile with the same amount of emotion as Din, watching as he holds his whole galaxy in his hands. Din looks back up at you with a new light in his brown eyes. “Our baby.”

“Our baby,” you repeat with a soft laugh, letting Din drown out the sound as he kisses you softly. It’s a feeling like no other, making you feel more safe, loved, and cared for than you can even begin to understand. It doesn’t last long as you remember where you are, but it’s still enough to make your heart flutter as you pull away and brush your nose against his. You look upon his face and, while you want to continue speaking of the future, you suddenly remember what he’d said before. Your expression starts to fall and Din’s gaze instantly fills with worry.

“What’s wrong,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din asks in his typical protective manner, his gloved hands rising to your face as he holds it gently.

“Your helmet,” you begin softly, trailing your knuckles down his cheek as you briefly look to his helmet that’s still sitting on the floor. “You said you had to remove it before.”

“Right.” Din sighs gently, letting his hands travel down to your waist as his gaze avoids yours for a moment. “To get the coordinates to the cruiser, I… had to use an Imperial terminal. It needed to scan my face.”

You feel horror run through you as you grab his pauldrons. “Din, don’t tell me you broke your Creed  _ just  _ for—.”

“It’s all right,  _ cyar’ika _ .” Din kisses your nose as he silences you. “My Creed doesn’t define me anymore. You helped me to see that.” You smile for a moment at that. “Everyone who saw my face died.” He clears his throat, looking away again. “Except for one.”

You furrow your brow. “Who?”

Din looks back to you with an almost guilty expression. “Mayfeld.” At the sound of the name, your jaw drops, but you don’t even get the chance to question him as he goes on. “I know, trust me  _ ner kar’ta _ , I didn’t want to work with him either. But he’s ex-Imperial and we needed his clearances.”

“It’s okay.” You smile in a reassuring manner as you stroke his cheek. Din leans into your touch, meeting your gaze again. “As long as he didn’t…  _ try  _ anything.”

“He was… well,  _ Mayfeld _ . But I froze up when I was helmetless and he took charge—and said he would forget he ever saw my face. I was pleasantly surprised.”

You raise your brow. “I’m surprised, too.”

Din smiles and absentmindedly brushes a thumb over your lips. “He also said he was sorry. About what he did to you.”

You kiss his gloved finger. “That’s… well, nice to hear.” You both chuckle as his forehead rests against yours again. “What else did I miss?”

Din shakes his head gently, trying not to jostle yours around too much. “Nothing. Just… my longing for you.” Din attempts another chuckle, but it comes out half-hearted as he presses the ghost of a kiss to your lips. “ _ Cyar’ika _ , I’m tired.” His eyes fall closed as he brushes his nose against yours. “I’ve lost my ship, I’ve lost my son, and I almost lost  _ you _ . And now, I’ve accidentally become the heir to a throne I don’t want to claim.” Din looks at you again, his gaze so full of pure love that you nearly melt beneath its intensity. “All I want is  _ you _ , Astra—and our little one.”

You smile at him, brushing a hand over his cheek and into his hair. “If only we could just… forget about it all for a little while.” Din furrows his brow at that. “We could have Cara bring us to Sorgan and we could just lay low like we did before, until you’re ready. How does that sound?”

Din finally returns your smile. “Perfect.” His hands cup your cheeks again as he searches your gaze. “I don’t care where we end up in the galaxy,  _ cyar’ika _ , as long as I’m with you.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth. “We will  _ always  _ be together, Din—because we’re one when together, and—.”

“—one when parted. I felt the connection, too.” Din pulls away for a moment to leave a long kiss on your forehead. “I truly,  _ deeply  _ love you, Astra.”

You urge Din closer, brushing your lips over his. “I love you too, Din.” You kiss him before you smile at him. “I always will. No matter where you go, I’ll always be right here, right by your side.”

“I know.” Din’s words are merely a whisper as he returns your smile, leaning in to kiss you again.

You’re not sure of what’s exactly to come in your future, but for once, you can’t bring yourself to care. As long as you’re here, as long as you’re  _ home _ , you know you’ll be okay—and that’s the only security you need.

Though you still know that your adventures together are far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes season two! Stay tuned for upcoming one-shots and possible prequels—and, of course, season three!


	45. Aftermath (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and the princess arrive on Sorgan to begin their period of rest—something that proves more difficult for Din than he thought.

“It’s strange to be back here again,” Cara remarks as she walks alongside you and Din. She’s escorted the two of you to Sorgan, wanting to have a chance to both greet the villagers and say goodbye to you and Din for a little while. You know she’ll be making as many visits as she can during your pregnancy—especially once the baby’s born.

“You should stay for a bit,” you encourage her, looking over at her as you walk closely to Din’s side. His hand’s been tight in yours ever since you left Gideon’s cruiser, his grip on your hand like a vice. You know Din’s still trying to recover from everything he’s been through in the past few days, which is no small feat. Though you’ve been through a lot yourself, you’re thankful that you weren’t alone for it—but  _ he  _ was.

Cara’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “As much as I’d love to, I’ve already been away too long,” she answers honestly. “Nevarro could be a crater now for all I know.”

You laugh softly at that, giving her a nod. “Well, all right. As long as you come back to visit soon.”

Cara gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course I will. Someone’s got to free you from Mando’s pregnancy prison.”

Even Din chuckles at that, shaking his head as he looks over at Cara through his visor. “No, you won’t. She needs to rest.”

“And so do you, tin can,” Cara jokes, though there’s a serious edge to her tone.

“See, Din?” you begin, lifting an eyebrow as you look over at Din. “Another person who agrees with me.”

Din shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.” Only you can hear the slight tremor in his voice, making you frown as you squeeze his hand for comfort.

Finally, you reach the break in the trees, catching sight of the krill ponds on Sorgan where you spent so much time before. The sight alone makes a wave of relief wash over you as a peaceful smile grows on your lips. Before the three of you can even think about making your arrival known, you hear a familiar childlike voice crying out with disbelief and joy.

“Mama!— _ Mama! _ ” Winta calls, and you can easily spot her small figure running towards Omera and tugging on her skirt. “Look!” She points to the three of you, causing Omera to look your way with surprise and joy.

“Ms. Dune and the Djarins!” Omera remarks, smiling sweetly as she approaches the three of you. She embraces you first, running her hand over your back in a comforting manner before pulling away. She does the same for Din and Cara. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon.”

“It’s… been a rough couple of weeks, believe it or not,” you remark, sharing a glance with Din for a moment before you look at Omera again. “But we completed our quest.”

Omera looks around you, obviously making sure Grogu truly isn’t with you as she smiles sadly. “I see.” At her side, Winta’s head falls, and Omera looks over at her as she encourages her to head back towards the village. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.” Omera looks pointedly at Cara. “Will you need a place to yourself as well?”

“No, thank you,” Cara responds with a nod and a smile. “I’m just their…  _ chauffeur _ .”

You snort with amusement as Omera furrows her brow. “I thought you had a—.”

“It’s a long story that’s better suited for another day,” you explain, feeling Din’s hand tighten in your own at the thought of his lost ship. You turn towards Cara, smiling sadly and dropping Din’s hand only to embrace her tightly. “Please come visit soon.”

“I will,” Cara assures you, running a hand over your back before she pulls away. “I can’t let that baby go too long without knowing who their favorite aunt is.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you let Cara and Din exchange their own farewell. Din’s still quieter than usual, making you bite your lip as you nervously cross your arms over your chest. When Cara steps away, Din reaches for his helmet, and you shake your head at him as you reach out to stop him. “You don’t have to, Din,” you whisper to him.

“I want to,” Din assures you. “This place is like a home to us. I… feel safe enough here.”

You search his visor for a few moments, finally giving in with a nod as you drop your hands from his arms. Din finishes removing his helmet and tucks it under his arm, causing Omera to look at him with stunned surprise. He reaches out a gloved hand to her as if he’s meeting her for the very first time. “Din,” he introduces himself. Before, she’d only known his last name—thanks to your adoption of it—and simply referred to him as Mr. Djarin. You smile with pride at his ability to give up such personal information.

Omera shakes his hand and smiles. “Welcome back,” she responds. She then gestures towards the village. “I’m sure they’ll all be very happy to see you two.” As you start to walk, Din gripping your hand with his free one again, Omera turns to you with a knowing sparkle in her eye. “Was I hearing things, or did Ms. Dune mention a baby?”

You chuckle and shrug at her. “Yeah, about five weeks ago,” you inform her. “We found out last week.”

“I’m so happy for the two of you,” Omera confesses warmly. “Parenthood is a very rewarding journey, and I know you’re both very well-suited for it.”

“You’re too kind, Omera, thank you.” You smile gratefully at her, earning a nod before she takes you to your familiar hut. As you and Din walk into the village, you can see the farmers looking your way with joy and then shock at the absence of Din’s helmet. When you look at him, Din’s jaw is tightened, but his gaze is for the most part relaxed as he views Sorgan through his own eyes. You give his hand a squeeze in silent praise as you head inside the hut.

“No one’s inhabited it since you last did,” Omera tells you. “I’ll get some fresh blankets—and if you need anything else, please just ask.”

“We know the drill,” you assure her. “Thank you.”

Omera nods and leaves, causing you to sigh as you turn to face Din. He’s still standing beside you, his gaze peering through the doorway of the hut as he looks at nothing in particular. You frown at the emptiness he displays, holding his face between your hands as you force him to look at you.

“Din,” you start with a gentle breath. “What’s wrong?”

Din shakes his head, closing his eyes as he places his free hand over one of yours. “I’m sorry,  _ rid’ika _ , I just…” he pauses and you patiently wait for him to find the words, “I feel as if I’m… not truly here.” He reopens his eyes and you can easily see the distress within them. It makes you frown even more as you brush your thumbs over his cheeks. “It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside. I guess… after everything stopped, I just…” Din shakes his head wordlessly.

“Everything’s catching up to you, now.” You gently ease his forehead against yours, searching his gaze as he silently agrees with you. “That’s all right, Din. Take the time you need. That’s why we’re here, doing this. Yes, I may need rest for the baby and myself, but  _ you  _ need rest as well.”

“I want to.” Din’s voice is quiet, strained even, making your chest ache. “I’m just not sure if I can.”

You release a soft breath, turning your head for a moment to view the setting Sorgan sun through the doorway. You look back at Din with a small smile. “I’ll help you. Okay? As best as I can.” Din nods, but before he can step away from you to make himself more comfortable, you pull him closer. “And if you just need to talk, Din, I’ll listen. You know that.”

Din manages to smile at you as he nods. “I know.” He leans forward to kiss you as softly as ever, managing to give you butterflies even amidst your concern for him as he brushes a hand over your ear. “Thank you,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

You swallow back a retort about not needing to be thanked, knowing that no matter how many times you tell him that, Din will always thank you. As he steps away and starts to shed his beskar, you watch with your arms crossed over your chest, your brow furrowed with worry as you gnaw at your lower lip. It’s hard to watch Din be so distant, but you know that the last thing you need to do is push him. The last week alone has been such a whirlwind of loss and confusion for him between losing his son, his ship, and forsaking his Creed that you can barely imagine what he’s going through internally. The best thing you can do for him right now is be the strength he needs, because you know your own healing will come with time.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice Din’s already finished, left solely in his loose shirt and pants as he walks back up to you. One of his hands reaches out to take your face by the chin, planting a kiss on the wrinkle between your eyebrows before he faces you with his own concern. “You’re worried.”

You look down as you place your hands against his chest. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want me to be, but I—.”

“It’s  _ okay _ ,  _ ner kar’ta _ .” Din places his thumb over your lips to silence you, causing your gaze to meet his again. “It would be impossible for me to ask you not to worry when I’m… well aware of how I’m acting.” He tightens his jaw and focuses on the stroking of his thumb over your lips. “If I could snap out of it, I would.”

“Don’t force yourself to.” You kiss his thumb before gently wrapping your hand around his wrist, lowering his hand and entwining his fingers with yours. “You need to process—and if this is how it’ll happen, then that’s all right.”

Din starts to smile, but before he can say anything, you hear a soft knock coming from outside your hut. You both separate from each other as you call for Omera to come in, her hands full of blankets as Din steps forward to take them from her. “I washed these just today,” Omera assures you. “I’m assuming you’ll both want to stay in for the rest of the night after your journey here.”

“Yeah, I think we will,” you agree with a smile. “Thank you, Omera.”

She nods, bidding the two of you goodnight before she leaves. You take note of the fact that other than when she handed him the bedding, Omera tried not to look at Din’s face, something that makes you smile a bit more as you turn to help Din. He’s already set to work himself, and when you kneel down to offer assistance, he stops you with one hand extended.

“Just relax,” Din insists in a warm voice you haven’t gotten to hear in much too long. It creates a spark of hope within you as you nod, refusing to be stubborn this time for fear of making that warmth disappear.

You sit back on your heels and watch as Din covers the mattress with the blankets, paying more attention to the handiwork than he needs to. Although you’d usually scold him for getting so lost in a task, you let yourself enjoy it, especially since it’s so harmless. The thought of remaining here in a comfortable home with Din—and later on, your child—is enough to give you butterflies yet again. You never knew that domesticity with him is something you’ve craved so badly until you’ve experienced enough adventures to make you appreciate the calmer times. The sight of him now, with his hair slightly mussed from his helmet and his sleeves pushed past his elbows, makes your heart swell in your chest as you feel yourself beaming.

“What is it,  _ cyar’ika? _ ” Din asks playfully, and you snap out of your daze to look and see him smiling slyly at you. “Are you wishing the view was better?” His hands play at the hem of his shirt as you laugh and shake your head.

“No—well, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that, but  _ no _ ,” you answer, taking a deep breath as you smile at him. “I’m just… falling in love with you again.”

Din’s gaze instantly softens, though it doesn’t last long. You can clearly see the way it becomes overshadowed by frustration and self-deprecation as he looks back at his work. “Even when I’m broken?” He attempts a chuckle that you can see right through.

Your heart aches as you shake your head, crawling over to meet him where he is. You place your hands on his face to force him to look at you. “You’re not broken, my love.” You keep your voice soft, hoping to soothe him as you look deeply into the brown eyes you’ve always loved. “You’re  _ healing _ . That takes time and it also takes strength.” You let your hands fall from his face, instead—after pausing at the hem for consent—running them under his shirt as you feel the muscles on his torso. “We both know you have a  _ lot  _ of that.”

Din chuckles at that, closing his eyes as he leans forward to brush his nose and then his lips over yours. He exhales a small and shaky breath that you can feel on your face, though you can’t tell whether it’s from his emotions or from the ways your hands still tend to his skin. You can tell he’s struggling with his words, his chest already beginning to heave as his hands settle on your waist and encourage you to come closer. “ _ Your  _ strength has always surpassed my own.” His words, while uttered quietly as a breathless whisper over your lips, are full of meaning and honesty. “That’s all I want to think of,  _ cyar’ika:  _ you.”

Din makes this confession before he begins to kiss you, his movements needy yet loving as he pulls you even closer.

“I only want to see  _ you _ .”

He breaks away for a moment only to slip his shirt off and set it on your side of the bed for later. 

“To kiss  _ you _ .”

Din keeps one hand on your face to pull your mouth to his as he sets the other on your waist, encouraging you to sit on top of him as he lays back on the bed he’s just made.

“To feel  _ you _ .”

After one more kiss, Din breaks away with heavy breaths, his gaze full of desperation and love as his knuckles run down the side of your face. Your own chest is heaving from your lack of breath, your hands resting against his chest as you lift one to brush some of the wisps of hair away from his forehead.

“Please, Astra— _ please _ .” He takes a hold of your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm without ever breaking his gaze away from yours. “I need you to love me until I forget myself.  _ Please _ .”

You shake your head. “No.” You kiss his nose when you see the disappointment flicker in his eyes. “I’ll love you until you forget everything except for us, _together_ —because without you, there is no me. Do you understand that?” You continue a trail of kisses from his nose down his lips and over his jaw, continuing more and more as you feel Din’s heart race underneath your hand. “Every single part of you, every _beautiful_ part, is dear to me, no matter what.” Even as Din’s hand comes to rest on top of your head with the continuation of your display of affection, you don’t stop. “I’ll make you feel as loved as you deserve, Din.”

You stay true to your words, showering Din with all the love you feel in your heart and translating that as best as you can through your actions. With every kiss on his skin or squeeze of his hand once your actions intensify, you reassure him with words of honesty that pour from your very soul, kissing away every tear of emotion and pleasure that cascades down his flustered cheeks. Din exclaims his own statements of praise and adoration for you, though you encourage him to think of himself for once, to let himself feel exactly what he needs to. When you’ve accomplished that, letting him bury his final proclamations of love into your heated skin, you kiss his face and then fall beside him. You take the shirt he’d left for you and pull it over your form, holding him and refusing to sleep until you feel his soft breaths on your neck first.

The peace doesn’t last long as you wake up in the middle of the night, nearly gasping aloud with panic when you realize you’re alone. You sit up quickly, looking around the dark hut for a sign of your husband. With a knot in your stomach, you stand from the bed, ignoring the new ache in your body as you make your way to the door. When you walk through it, you can see the silhouette of Din as he sits on the edge of the porch, his back facing you as he looks up to the Sorgan night sky.

You hold back a worried sigh as you instead approach him, kneeling behind him as you begin to trace the muscles of his back. Din flinches at first but relaxes when he realizes it’s you, his head turning slightly over his shoulder as your arms wrap around his middle. You press gentle kisses to his shoulder, moving with him when he releases a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, you… weren’t supposed to wake up,” Din starts to apologize, his voice raspy from his slumber as he faces the sky once again. You continue to kiss his skin for comfort. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone, but I also didn’t want to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,  _ riduur _ .” You rest your chin upon his shoulder, keeping yourself close as you watch the moonlight reflect off his face. The light causes it to glow in a way that takes your breath away, but you know that if you muse to him about how breathtaking he looks right now, he won’t believe you. “May I know what’s brought you out here?”

Din rests his hands over yours and looks at you for a moment. “Yes.” He tries to smile at you. “I don’t want to hide from you.” His words cause you to return his smile as he faces the sky yet again. “I… had a dream. A bad one.” You can see Din swallow hard before he goes on. “It was of the rescue, but Gr… Gro—…” Din can’t even bring himself to say the name, “the kid and I were never able to save you.” Din’s hands tighten around yours as you kiss his shoulder again to make him feel more at ease. “I kept getting more and more chances, but I failed every time. I lost both of you over and over again.” Din closes his eyes as he heaves another breath. “I know it’s irrational, because  _ both  _ of you are here and you’re safe with me now, but I…” Din searches for words and can’t find them.

“It’s not irrational.” You free a hand from his to touch his cheek, making him face you as you furrow your brow in severity. “Din, you cannot keep discrediting what you’ve been through. You said it yourself: you lost many things and gained responsibilities you never asked for.” Your fingers brush over his ear as you continually stroke the hair above it. “But I can  _ assure  _ you, Din, that the baby and I will always be with you, now. Okay? There are no more threats from Moff Gideon hanging over our heads. There are no more bounty hunters who want to take me from you. We’ll be safe here.”

Din nods slowly, letting his forehead fall against yours as he closes his eyes again. “I know. You’re right.” You watch as his lips start to quiver slightly, but he keeps himself composed. “I…” he still struggles to express his feelings, but you give him the time he needs. “I  _ cannot  _ lose you.” Din opens his eyes and you can see the tears he’s holding back. “I can’t even fathom the thought of it,  _ rid’ika _ .”

When a tear manages to escape his eye, you’re quick to brush it away, keeping your hand on his cheek as you speak as softly as ever. “It’s a terrifying thought, Din, I know—especially after what you had to see on Gideon’s cruiser.” You offer a hopeful smile as you continue. “But we can’t live our lives in fear, especially in a galaxy such as this. We’ll take each day as it comes. I know we’re both strong enough to handle it. There’ll be challenges, but I’m confident there’s nothing we won’t be able to handle together.” You press the most gentle of kisses to his mouth as you keep smiling at him. “Still, it’s okay to be upset, Din. You’re processing.” You kiss him again. “I love you no matter what.”

Din lifts your hands to his lips, kissing the backs of them as he manages to smile at you. “I love you too,  _ cyar’ika _ . More than I can say. Your patience and your wisdom, it… means so,  _ so  _ much to me.” You smile wider upon hearing that, but before you can speak, Din goes on. “May I confess one thing before we try to return to bed?”

You start to stroke his hair again as you nod at him. “Of course, my love.”

Din’s smile starts to fade though you can see him trying to maintain it. “I know she wasn’t the most…  _ profound _ , but I… really miss the  _ Crest _ .” Din’s gaze falls as it fills with tears again, though he tries to laugh them away. “It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I never expected to lose her like that.”

“Hey, that’s not ridiculous, Din.” You lower your head to meet his gaze, laughing with him—but not in amusement. “That was your home for a long,  _ long  _ time. That was our first physical home together. I miss her, too.” You give him a look of encouragement. “But maybe once Cara delivers that hefty bounty you’re gonna get for turning in Gideon, then we can try to find another  _ Razor Crest _ . Okay?”

Din nods at that. “I’d like that a lot.” He pauses as he looks to the stars again. “Even though nothing will replace her.”

“I agree.” You pull his face to yours one more time for a kiss. “Can I tempt you to come back to bed, now? I know the stars are beautiful, but I happen to be  _ very  _ exhausted from… time spent not resting.”

Din laughs at that, though his expression turns serious when he begins to turn around on the porch. “They might be beautiful, but they’re no match for you,  _ cyar’ika _ .” You shake your head in slight embarrassment, though you have to cover your mouth to suppress a gasp when Din suddenly stands and scoops you up in his arms.

“Din!” you exclaim in a whisper-shout, trying not to wake up the rest of the sleeping Sorgan villagers. “I would’ve been fine walking myself!”

“Didn’t you mention something about exhaustion?” Din’s tone is thick with amusement yet also genuine care as he carries you inside. “And when you walked out to meet me, you didn’t sound very…  _ steady _ .”

You playfully roll your eyes, giggling as Din sets you down in the bed and then rests beside you. “You’ve got a big ego, Djarin.”

Din snickers as he pulls your head underneath his chin. “That’s not the—.”

“ _ Din _ ,” you cut him off with another series of giggles. “Enough! Our goal is to  _ rest _ .”

“All right, all right.” Din laughs as he kisses your head. “But seriously,  _ cyar’ika _ , thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know you don’t need me to thank you, but I just… need you to know how grateful I am for all of it—for  _ you _ .”

Your heart warms as you press a kiss to his neck. “It’s my greatest honor, Din, to get to take care of you the same way you care for me. I promise.”

With these words, you both manage to fall into a peaceful sleep for the rest of the night, ready to face whatever challenges might arise during the healing process with the strength you’ve built not separately, but  _ together _ .


	46. Remedy (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din keeps learning how he can best take care of the princess the further along she gets, unknowingly coming across buried trauma on the way.

Din turns around quickly when he hears you rustling around in the bed. He’s only just gotten up himself, hoping that he could get ready and sneak out with enough time to serve you a hearty breakfast. The baby hasn’t been merciful in letting you eat as much as you need to lately, and Din’s been hoping that the homemade bread recipe Omera had shown him would be a good fix.

“Running off on me before the sun’s even fully come up?” you joke, your voice nothing but a croak as Din notices your gaze observing the dim lighting in the woven walls of the hut. “Was it something I said in my sleep?”

Din chuckles and shakes his head, putting down the shirt he was just about to pull over his head as he walks over and sits on the edge of the mattress. “Well, I was hoping you would stay asleep long enough for me to at least fix you something to eat,” Din tells you.

You let out a hum as your tired eyes close again, especially as Din’s hand starts to brush over your head repeatedly. “M’sorry,” you apologize, already falling asleep again thanks to Din’s actions. He smiles even wider to himself at the sight of your hands resting subconsciously on the small swell of your stomach that’s just started to show. The sight of it through his own shirt on your figure is enough to make his heart soar.

“No apologies allowed,  _ ner kar’ta _ .” Din says these words softly, not wanting to disturb you as he watches your eyelids flutter closed. Gently, he bends down to press a lingering kiss to your head, pleased when he sits back up and notices that your breathing has evened out again. After another minute of stroking your hair, he makes himself stop, rising from the bed again to finish getting ready.

It’s not often that Din has to at least slightly attend to his hair as a part of his routine. The time on Sorgan has left him to become careless in cutting it, especially since he rarely wears his helmet in the village. Now, it’s grown out just enough to fall in longer waves atop his head, something you’ve both mentioned and proved with your actions that you like very much. For that very reason—and for the thought of his father, who used to keep his hair in a similar style—Din decides he’ll let it stay as it is for now. He uses his fingers to tame it before he finally steps out of the hut, breathing in the fresh Sorgan morning air.

On his way to the storehouse, Din walks past the farmers who are always out early to either begin their work or get other tasks done. They say hello as he passes and he simply nods, still used to providing his responses nonverbally—regardless of the fact he goes helmetless. When he steps into the storehouse, he finds Omera standing inside, looking his way with one of her usual friendly smiles.

“Good morning,” she greets, turning back to her task of stocking what she must’ve gotten from town the day before. “How is she today?”

Din sighs lightly as he reaches for the ingredients he needs. “She’s still asleep,” he answers. “She only woke up briefly when I got up. But, it seems that her sickness is… not getting any better.” Din pauses, turning with the few things he needs in hand as he faces a concerned Omera. “I’m hoping that she can at least get some bread down.”

Omera nods. “That should be tame enough for her stomach.” She lifts an eyebrow. “Though, as much as we can do for her here, you should consider taking her to the doctor either in town or the one she saw on Nevarro. It’s always good to get a formal checkup, especially if she’s still as sick as you say she is.”

Din nods, looking out of the entrance of the storehouse with his jaw set in worry. “I know.” He turns back to face Omera again. “I’ll talk to her about it today. Cara should be coming back to visit soon, anyway.”

Omera’s smile returns as she gives Din’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “She’ll be okay, Din.” It’s still semi-foreign to Din to hear someone other than you say his name, but he trusts Omera enough to use it. “Remember, this is all natural.”

_ Yeah,  _ Din stresses to himself,  _ and that’s what makes this terrifying as hell.  _ Din knows that he has no control when it comes to protecting you and the baby, though he wants to be able to keep you both as safe and healthy as possible. Instead, he offers Omera another nod. “Thank you.”

Din then makes his way out of the storehouse, sitting by one of the fire pits as he prepares to get one of his own started. He then grabs the bowl, spoon, and slab of wood Omera had used to teach him this recipe, recounting her instructions as seriously as he used to do with his training. With the diligence of a true Mandalorian student, Din does exactly as he was taught, being patient as he activates the yeast and then adds in the rest of the ingredients.

What comes next is one of Din’s favorite parts about making the bread: kneading the dough. It’s a familiar process for him, as he fondly remembers watching his father do the same for his mother growing up. It’s like a stress reliever as Din uses the muscles he gained from so much training and fighting to finally create something  _ good  _ in his galaxy, though you would easily argue that he’s been able to do that already—with the baby being just one example of it.

The sun’s already risen higher in the sky by the time Din’s nearly finished with this part of the process. That’s when he hears your familiar footsteps on the porch behind him, causing him to pause momentarily as he turns and faces you.

Almost immediately, Din can feel his heart leap into his throat at the sight of you.

You’ve since exchanged Din’s shirt for a new dress that Din’s never seen before—the type of clothing that’s become more comfortable for you. It’s a yellow color with a subtle floral pattern, complimenting the way the Sorgan sun radiates off your skin. The short sleeves are made to fall off your shoulders, allowing the swells of your chest to breathe in a time where they truly need to. Though the fabric that cuts off just above your knee is flowy, it still shows the small bump where your child is growing, the sight of the two of you enough to make Din forget entirely where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing. Having his entire galaxy in front of him is enough to make him nonsensical.

When Din finally forces his adoring eyes to blink a few times, he notices that your gaze at him is full of the same type of admiration. He looks down and notices that you’re likely looking pointedly at him as he works on the dough, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and giving you a view of the arms you’ve lavished praises upon enough to make Din feel as if his cheeks permanently burn with a shy blush. Din tries to distract himself from this embarrassment by returning to his work, listening to the grass crunch underneath your feet as you approach him.

“What a sight to wake up to,” you muse, already causing Din’s cheeks to flush as you press a kiss against one of them. He can feel your stare burning through him, and when he takes a moment to glance over at you, his gaze meets yours. You lift a hand to his face as your gaze starts to dance all over it. “You’re so handsome. You know that, don’t you?”

Din shakes his head shyly, feeling his face burn even more as he looks back down at his work. He shrugs, attempting to change the subject. “All I can think about is you.” He says the words fondly, smiling to himself as he quickly observes the way you look in your dress beside him.

You understand what he’s getting at, causing you to smile. “This is the dress that Winta helped me to make.” Din watches out of the corner of his eye as you look down at the dress, flattening out some of the wrinkles you’d created when you sat beside him. “She picked out the fabric.” You add your next few words in a nearly teasing tone. “Do you like it?”

Din fully pauses his work and looks over at you to make his fond admiration of you obvious, letting his gaze drift up and down your body as he nods. “Yes.”

“Wow, look at those heart eyes,” Din suddenly hears a familiar voice say from behind the two of you. Din completely abandons his work in his shock, turning around at the same time you do to see Cara standing there with a fond smile on her face. “You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried, Djarin.”

Din scoffs and shakes his head as you move to stand up. “Cara!” your exclamation of her name is nothing short of excited as you smile in your typical breathtaking way. Din can tell you’re struggling to get up, and as much as you might refuse the help, Din instantly reaches forward to take one of your hands and use the other to support your back as he gets you off the ground. Immediately after, you’re hurrying forward to embrace your friend, a sight that makes Din’s chest warm even more as he attempts to brush the flour and other ingredients off his hands. You pull away and continue to speak even as Din and Cara share a quick embrace of their own. “You’re here even earlier than we expected!”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Cara confesses, pulling away from Din to admire you at his side. “I got some time off and I had to check in on my favorite family.” Cara smiles more widely as she gestures to you. “Look at you, you’re practically glowing!” She then gestures with her head towards Din. “I can see why he doesn’t take his eyes off you.”

Din feels his cheeks burn yet again as the two of you laugh, causing him to dramatically roll his eyes as he resigns himself back to his work with the bread, still listening to your conversation as he does so. “Well, I’m really glad you’re here.” Din can hear a subtle tone of longing in your voice, something that makes him turn his head towards you for a moment. He knows you’ve been struggling in the sense of wanting to seek normalcy, with the changes of both your body and your lifestyle becoming so quick and drastic. It makes his heart ache for a moment as he forces himself to release the tension into his work.

“I thought I’d stay for just a small while.” Din takes the cloth he’d hung on one of his shoulders and sets it over the top of the bowl as she continues. “I figured that, before returning to Nevarro, maybe we could… I don’t know, visit a certain someone.”

Din freezes where he is, his grip on the cloth becoming like a vice just at the subtle reference to his son. He can hear the breath you hold in your chest, though he can’t bring himself to look upon either one of you as he stares down at his hands. “Really?” Your voice is nearly a gasp when you finally respond to Cara. “Do you know where he’s training?”

“Of course I do. Remember what the Jedi said on the cruiser.”

Din’s still frozen when he feels your hand gently rest on his shoulder. “Did you hear that,  _ riduur? _ ” Slowly, he looks over at you, resenting the way his expression makes your joyful smile fade as your gaze fills with concern. You rest a hand on his cheek, looking back up at Cara as you kneel beside him. “Cara, would you mind giving us a minute?”

Cara bows her head respectfully, walking off to greet Omera and the other villagers as you turn back to Din. His gaze falls back to his hands as he finishes covering the bowl, letting you turn his face back to you as you gently stroke your thumb over the skin on his cheek. The question Din knows you’re about to ask hangs in the air between you, so he decides to simply go ahead and answer it. “Of course I’m excited to visit…  _ him _ ,  _ cyar’ika _ .” Din’s gaze searches your own as he watches you listen with such care and concern. “I just… I’ve spent so much time trying to push the pain of losing him away, and now I’m… I’m afraid that seeing him again will make it hurt all over again.” Din’s now unable to hold all his honest thoughts back as his brow furrows in worry. “What if he doesn’t want to see me— _ us _ —again? What if he’s moved on and he’s happy where he is, and I just make it harder for him somehow?”

“Din.” You sigh his name in a caring yet chastising manner, gazing at him with sympathy. “I understand why you would feel this way, but you know Grogu better than any of us ever could.” You offer an encouraging smile before you go on. “You know that Grogu loves you,  _ both  _ of us, so much. Remember what Ahsoka told us? The words came right from Grogu himself.” You rest your forehead against his as you finish. “A few months doesn’t change that.”

Din takes a deep breath, nodding in an attempt to reassure himself. “You’re right.” He even begins to smile again in a way that makes you press a kiss to his nose. “I’m… being paranoid.”

“It’s okay. You’ve gone through a lot,  _ riduur _ .” You kiss him softly, quickly enough to not make a spectacle of it out in the open but long enough to make sure Din feels at ease. You pull away with a smile that Din can’t help returning. “I can’t wait for you two to see each other again.” Your fingers brush a few pieces of his hair behind his ear as Din watches you openly admire him. “When you’re done with the bread, though, I’d like to go on a walk. I don’t like feeling this…  _ stiff _ .”

Din knows you’re referring to the way he had to help you stand just moments ago, making him raise an eyebrow at you as he leans close enough for his words to only be heard by you. “So, you want me to… loosen you up, somehow?”

You shake your head and playfully push his face away from you, making him laugh as you keep a familiar twinkle in your eye. “I said, I want to go on a  _ walk _ .”

“Yes, I heard you. I understand.” Din smiles to himself as he turns back to the bread, thanking the Maker for the fast-working yeast that Omera uses. It only requires a single rise rather than multiple, leading him to start the fire up as he prepares to bake the bread. You’ve already managed to get up without Din’s help this time and walk over to where Cara’s still speaking with Omera, letting Din have his own time to reflect on the idea of seeing Grogu again as he watches the bread bake over the fire.

As he’s waiting, Din gets a surprise visit from none other than Winta, causing him to smile as she sits curiously beside him. “Whatcha’ makin’?” she asks in her bubbly tone, studying the baking dough with curiosity.

“Nothing exciting,” Din answers with a dramatic amount of disappointment in his tone. “Just some bread.”

“Bread is exciting!” Winta insists. “Mama’s always said that it’s hard to make.”

“That’s because it requires patience,” Din starts to tease as he looks over at Winta. “Which  _ you _ —,” he pauses and pokes her forehead with his finger, “—happen to lack.”

Winta scoffs and shoves Din by the arm, causing him to laugh softly as she crosses her arms defiantly. “I  _ am  _ patient!” She then points at you, causing Din to look your way for a quick moment. Din realizes you were already gazing at him and Winta with fond admiration, which he knows stems from the idea of him acting like a father to the little girl at his side. “I mean, look at the dress Mrs. Djarin and I made together! That took a  _ lot  _ of patience!”

“I’m sure it did.” Din can’t bring himself to look away from you, still in awe of the way you look in the dress. “It’s very,  _ very  _ beautiful, Winta.”

“Mrs. Djarin told me you’d like it.” Din finally forces himself to tear his gaze away from you as he looks at Winta’s prideful expression. “I picked out the pattern myself!”

“You did a great job.” Din gives her head a gentle pat in the same way he used to do for his son, watching her beam before she catches sight of her friends farther away. She leaps up and runs over to them, causing Din to look after her with a warm smile. Any opportunity to act like a father—especially to those who truly need one—makes him feel happier than he can express. He knows it’s his true role in this galaxy, as you’ve reminded him of many times before. 

And while Din would love to have another son, he feels especially called to care for a daughter.

Din finishes tending to the bread as it bakes, enjoying the peace he has to himself as he lets it cool on the cloth he’d used earlier. After he does that, he hurries back into the storehouse and takes a jar of the homemade jam Omera had crafted from some of the leftover krill, returning to the bread and slicing it up before he spreads a generous amount on two pieces for you. Din doesn’t think of feeding himself for now as he stands and walks over to where you are, still standing with Cara and Omera as he sets his free hand on the small of your back. “Breakfast is served,” he announces, offering you the two slices of bread on another cloth.

You look at him with appreciation, though he can see the hesitance in your actions when you reach out to take it. “Thank you,  _ riduur _ ,” you say sincerely, “but I’m…” you pause, and Din watches as one of your hands rests on the swell of your stomach. You don’t have to elaborate for him to understand.

“I know.” Din uses his hand to turn your face towards him, refusing to feel shy about such a gesture in the presence of two close friends. They even start to converse amongst themselves, as if they’re proving that you and Din truly have your own privacy. “Can I ask you to try to eat just these two pieces, though?” Din softens his gaze even more as he looks into your own. “For me?” You sigh softly, giving in with a small nod and a smile. Din lets his hand fall from your face to allow you to take your first bite. He smiles wide as he watches you swallow it, his hand brushing over to the opposite side of your waist as he gives it a gentle squeeze. Din leans in close to kiss your temple, whispering his next words against the skin there. “Good girl.”

You look up at him with warm eyes, going in for another bite already as you speak low enough for only him to hear. “Keep up with the affirmations and I’ll eat the whole loaf.”

Din laughs, kissing your head again before he leaves you to pick up his mess. He puts the fire out and returns the ingredients where they belong, tending to the dishes last. Gently, he washes them out in one of the ponds, using the cloth from before to dry them. Once he’s finished, he tosses the cloth over his shoulder, returning the dishes where they belong and then joining you at your side again.

Cara lifts an eyebrow at Din, evidently observing his more domestic look as she begins to comment on it. “So, you’ve traded the beskar for cloth, huh?” Her tone is fond as Din chuckles. “I can finally say that this  _ does  _ look good on you.”

“Doesn’t it?” you chime in, wrapping your hands around his arm as you beam at him. Din shakes his head as another blush stretches across his cheeks. You look back to Cara and elaborate on his habits since settling back into Sorgan. “Sometimes, he needs his beskar. But he’s been pretty good about it lately.”

Din nods to confirm your words. “It’s… an adjustment.” He manages to smile as he looks at you. “While I hate to be rude to our guest who’s just arrived, the  _ princess _ would like to go for a walk.” Din doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes at him.

“And Maker forbid she go alone,” Cara teases, smiling as she takes a step towards the two of you. “No, I get it. You’ve both been through enough.” She pats Din’s shoulder, taking the cloth in her hand and pulling it away. “Enjoy your walk.”

“Thanks, Cara,” you say softly, still smiling even as Din starts to lead you away from the village. You share a sweet silence for many strides, waiting until you’re out of earshot to begin speaking. Din knows exactly where he’s leading you: the field of flowers not far from here, your favorite place to relax outside of the village. He has a feeling you’ll need it.

“How’s that breakfast sitting with you,  _ rid’ika? _ ” Din questions, looking over at you with his brow furrowed in concern.

“Fine so far.” You rest your head against his shoulder as you keep walking. “I think your bread recipe is magic,  _ riduur _ .”

Din laughs and shakes his head. “It’s not  _ my  _ recipe, though I wish I could take the credit for it.”

“Then your bread-making is magic.”

“I’ll take that.” Din smiles, though it starts to falter when he clears his throat and decides upon moving to a different topic. “Omera asked me how you were this morning.” You hum to acknowledge his words, letting him continue his thought. “I told her you were still struggling with the sickness and she offered some advice.”

“Yeah?” Your voice is dreamlike, as if you’re only halfway here thanks to your happiness. Din knows that it doesn’t take a lot to make you happy these days, something that warms his chest before he goes on.

“She said that you should go for a formal check-up.”

Din can instantly sense your change in mood as your grip around his arm tightens slightly. “Go where?”

He pauses, hesitant to elaborate now that you’re upset. “A doctor.”

“No, I think it’s fine.” Your response comes much too quick for Din’s liking. He can hear the tremor in your voice as clear as day, and when he looks over at you, he can see you tightening your jaw in a worried manner. “I’ll be fine.”

“Astra.” Din says your name softly, stopping your walking for a moment as he makes you face him. The haunted look in your eyes makes him want to hold you and assure you that he’ll never do anything to make you uncomfortable, but he knows he has to get to the bottom of whatever’s causing this. Gently, he reaches for your cheek, encouraging you to look at him as he speaks. “Are you afraid?” Din can see the way you hold a breath in your chest, as if you refuse to admit such a thing. It makes him wrinkle his brown as he brushes his thumb over the skin beneath your eye. “It’s okay to be afraid of something, Astra. It won’t make me think any less of you or your strength.”

You finally release the breath in your chest, looking down for a moment as you nod. “Yes.” Your voice is quiet in a way that makes a pang run through Din’s chest. Your gaze meets his again. “I’m afraid.”

You don’t elaborate. Din forces his brow to relax a bit as he attempts to make you feel at ease. “May I know why?”

You nod again, this time taking Din’s arm in your hands again as you encourage him to keep walking. Din lets you do this, hoping that getting to the flowery field will put you more at ease as you start to speak. “When I was younger, I was in an accident.” You pause and Din can feel your fingers picking at the sleeve of his shirt on his arm. He pulls you closer to his side as you continue to walk. “I was being transported somewhere when I was young, in our family’s speeder. There was a creature in our path—to this day, I still don’t know what it was—and the speeder ended up crashing. I… don’t remember all the injuries I sustained, but it was enough for me to have to go into an emergency procedure.”

Din frowns when he looks at you again and notices your lips are trembling—not with tears, but with anxiety. He kisses your head, wordlessly encouraging you to go on if you can. You do after a few more moments.

“They didn’t have time to sedate me.” You shake your head, looking at Din with pure horror in your eyes. “I felt  _ everything _ .” You force yourself to take a deep breath. “My parents made sure they suffered the consequences of that, but it was too late. The damage was done.” You start to loosen your grip on Din’s arm just a bit, especially as the field of flowers comes into sight. “I’ve tried to avoid doctors ever since.”

Din feels a terrifying realization dawn on him as he looks at you again. “On Nevarro, you said you were all right with going to a doctor.”

You return his look with reassurance. “I was. I knew a checkup would be all right—and at that point, I felt… at least, mostly healed from what happened all those years ago. Everything was fine there.” You pause once you and Din walk into the flowers, letting him help you to sit down among them before he encourages you to rest your head in his lap. Din gently strokes your head as you lay there, silently encouraging you to go on if you need to. He offers his other hand to you, letting you hold it tight between your own hands. “Then… the cruiser.” Din’s jaw clenches just at the reference to it. “Do you remember how my hands and feet were restricted to the table?”

Din nods, already afraid of where this is going. Still, he keeps his expression strong for you, not wanting to make you feel more upset than you already are.

“When they brought me in there and I realized what was going to happen, I just lost it. I fought them as hard as I could. I can’t remember how many I might’ve injured or killed, I just couldn’t take the thought of something like that happening again.” You close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. “The actual procedure was fairly calm, once they had me restrained. I don’t remember much of it.” You reopen your eyes, shaking your head aimlessly as you look somewhere past Din. “I don’t remember  _ any  _ of it.”

Din waits to see if you’ll say more, but you don’t. He takes a deep breath as he keeps stroking your head. “ _ Cyar’ika _ , I… am so very sorry you’ve gone through all this.” His jaw tightens again. “Especially without me there to fight for you.” Din forces himself to relax. “If I had known this, I would’ve never let you go to that doctor alone, even if it was just a checkup. But I understand that it was hard for you to speak about. You were so strong to endure all that on your own.” He leans down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nod, your gaze falling to your hands as you use them to play with Din’s fingers. You wait a few beats before responding. “I’m sorry I didn’t—.”

“No,  _ rid’ika _ , no apologies. And if you don’t want a formal checkup? That’s all right with me. Okay?”

You shake your head, looking at Din with the determination he admires so ardently. “You’re right, we should go. I don’t want to risk anything happening to the baby just because of my own fears.”

Din can’t help smiling upon hearing that, lifting your hands to his lips as he kisses your knuckles. “ _ Bid kotyc _ .”  _ So strong _ . He lets your hands fall back on your small bump, a sight and a feeling that warms his heart as he nods. “All right. But I’ll be right by your side the  _ entire  _ time,  _ rid’ika _ , and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

You nod, returning Din’s smile as he sees some of the familiar light coming back to your eyes. The sight makes his smile widen as he bends down, beginning to lavish your face with gentle kisses. It makes you giggle as one of your hands weaves into his hair, making him sigh with further delight as he continues his display of affection. Din finishes the series of kisses with one on your lips, letting his lips linger as he speaks to you in a low and meaningful voice.

“You… are the  _ strongest _ ,” he pauses to kiss you again, “most  _ beautiful _ ,” another kiss, “woman in the galaxy.” He kisses you one last time, pulling away to fully admire you again. Din brushes his hand over your head, shaking his head in awe at the way you look while bathed in the Sorgan sun. “I’m in awe of you.  _ Always _ .”

Din can’t help smiling when you try to turn your head away from him in embarrassment. “Din,” you wince, making him chuckle as he lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles again.

“Don’t worry,  _ ner kar’ta _ ,” Din assures you, using his hand to make you face him again. “I’m running out of words to use. There just… aren’t enough for you.” He encourages you to sit up, adjusting your positioning so that you’re straddling his lap. Din lets you lean your forehead against his, brushing his lips over yours before he goes on. “But I can show you, if you’d like.”

You nod, taking fistfuls of his shirt in your hands to pull him even closer to yourself. “Please.” Your voice is a hushed whisper, as if you’re already lost in his loving haze. Din smiles, kissing you as he prepares to shower you with all the love and praise you deserve.

He does just that in the field full of flowers, unable to stop making you feel the way he needs you to. Din’s so lost in his passion for you that he doesn’t fully realize all the marks he leaves behind, the ones on your thigh in the first heat of his love and the ones on your neck and shoulder following that. It’s a result of his struggle to keep your actions private, a sacred action for only the two of you to know about, when a passerby threatens to ruin that. Din’s almost sure they’ve heard _you_ , but he’s able to keep them in his sights as far away as they are, remaining certain that nothing and no one will hurt you in a moment so vulnerable. You’re so caught up in the haze of your shared love that Din has to let you rest in the grass for a while, placing flowers in your hair as he patiently waits for you to recover.

You truly need his support on your walk back to the village, making Din smile slyly to himself as he lets you take a tight hold on his arm again. When he looks over at you, he can see what he’s left behind on your exposed skin, causing you to scoff when you realize he’s staring at it.

“If things get uncomfortable at the village, Din, remember that it’s _your_ fault,” you say, giggling despite the fact Din knows you’re trying to remain serious.

“Sure,” Din jokes. “Even though  _ you  _ were the one who begged for it.”

“I did not!” You lift a hand from his arm to swat his chest. Din simply laughs at your actions.

“It doesn’t matter.” Din kisses your head—still adorned with a few flowers—as the village comes in sight. “You’ll never have to beg for my love.”

You look at him with eyes full of love, making Din smile even more as you finally return to the village. Before you have a chance to wash up—something you, in particular, need after your  _ walk _ —you come across Cara. She’s sitting on the porch of her own hut, raising an eyebrow at the two of you as you walk by. Din recognizes the look in her eyes and he instantly knows he’s about to hear something that’ll probably want to make him hide in his helmet for a while.

“Welcome back from your walk,” Cara greets with a sly smile. “I hope it was as…  _ enjoyable  _ as it sounded.”

Din’s gaze rises to the sky as he releases a deep breath, trying to keep his face from turning as red as one of the flowers he remembers your hand crushing in the heat of your love. He now knows that she was the passerby—and that she knows  _ exactly  _ what was going on.

“My walk wasn’t as exciting.” Cara finishes with a nonchalant shrug, drawing a sip from her spotchka as she leans back in her seat.

“Welcome back to Sorgan, Cara,” you say, speaking for the two of you when Din knows he can’t. Your voice contains a strong hint of amusement as you lead the way into your own hut, and immediately, you break into a fit of laughter. “What are the chances of  _ that? _ ”

Din shrugs, running his hands over his face as he tries to hold back a chuckle. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “But it’s easily the most embarrassing option.”

You scoff playfully and walk up to him, setting your hands upon his chest. “Oh, come on, Djarin,” you tease. “You know this doesn’t surprise her one bit.”

“Sure, Djarin,” Din retorts, holding your waist as he urges you even closer. “But at least I used to be able to hide within my helmet.”

You giggle and kiss him quickly. “I’m proud of you for standing your ground without it.” You then step away from him, raising your brow as your fingers rest at the hem of your dress. “Now, are you going to make me wash up alone, or will you at least help—when it was  _ your  _ fault?”

Din playfully rolls his eyes, walking over to where you are with an affectionate smile. “Of course I’ll help.” Din stops to kiss your forehead. “Whenever you need me. You never have to ask.”

You look at him with such love that Din can nearly feel his heart bursting. “I know.”

Din can’t keep himself from kissing you one more time, wanting to fully prove his words in the best way he knows. After all you’ve both been through and all you’ll still go through, Din needs you to know that he will never willingly leave your side—and he’ll do everything he can to prevent that from happening again.


	47. Invigoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess navigates one of Din’s rare off days, attempting to find the best ways possible to keep him at ease.

Days that begin with the clunking of Din’s armor are always the hardest.

You release a quiet sigh as you watch him from your bed. You’ve just woken up to the sight of Din putting on his flight suit and starting to put all his armor on. Aside from the rare times you both go to the main marketplace in Sorgan or travel offworld, Din never wears his armor—except for when his mind is attacking him the most. He needs to physically hide within his armor on those days, shutting himself away from everything and everyone around him. Din still lets you in, although you never push him to.

Subconsciously, one of your hands rubs circles on the sheet atop your swollen stomach, the feeling of it somehow both natural and strange. You’re not sure Din knows you’ve awakened; part of you hopes he doesn’t. Din always feels guilty on these days, no matter how few and far between they are. No matter how many times you assure him that you understand, he never believes you, instead wishing he was the picture of strength he sees you as.

You just wish you could get Din to see himself the way  _ you _ see him.

Din finishes dressing by sliding the helmet on his head. The silhouette of him with his armor is just as familiar as the one without it, still making you smile as widely as you would on any other morning. As soon as Din stands from where he’s been seated on the floor of the hut, he turns to face you, his helmet tilting to the side when he realizes you’re awake. Your heart already starts to ache.

“Good morning,  _ riduur _ ,” you greet softly, pleased when Din walks over and kneels beside your bed. You extend the hand that’s been on your stomach to ask for his, pleased when he lets you take a hold of it. You pull his gloved hand towards you, lowering his sleeve and pressing a gentle kiss on the skin between his glove and his vambrace. Din holds a breath in his chest at your tender actions.

“Good morning,” Din finally responds, his modulated voice quiet as he brushes his hand over your head. “Are you feeling okay today?”

You nod, continuing to smile at him as your hand returns to your stomach. “Yeah. The little one’s behaving so far.”

You can picture the smile behind Din’s helmet at your words, instead watching as his visor looks towards your stomach. “I’m… very glad.” His tone, thick with tension, contradicts his words—even though you know he means them genuinely. There’s an apology from him that hangs in the air between you, but Din knows better than to truly say it. “Does fruit sound all right for breakfast this morning?”

You nod. Din tilts his helmet even more before he leans close to you, resting his helmet against your forehead. The cool feeling of beskar is as welcome as the warm skin that lies beneath it, causing you to close your eyes as you accept the affectionate touch. When Din pulls back, he repeats the gesture with your stomach, also setting his gloved hand upon it before he starts to move away. You sit up on your elbow, reaching a hand towards him as you call out gently. “Wait.”

Instantly, Din kneels back down, allowing you to come closer as you lift your hands to the sides of his helmet. You pause, waiting for consent to lift it. Din offers a small nod, causing you to lift the helmet just enough to kiss him. You keep it soft and sweet, not wanting to overwhelm him in the face of such a hard day. When you pull away, you brush your thumb over his lips, slowly letting the helmet fall back over his face.

“I love you, Din.” Your words are heavy with meaning, your gaze searching his visor to make sure he truly understands it.

Din doesn’t respond for a few moments and you figure that he  _ can’t _ . Still, you’re as patient as ever, brushing your thumbs over his beskar cheeks until he’s able to present an answer. “I… love you more than I can say,  _ rid’ika _ .” The words are strained, his rasp nearly giving out a few times as he covers one of your hands with his. “I’ll be back with breakfast soon.”

You nod, letting your hands fall from his helmet and watching as he stands and leaves the hut. As soon as he’s gone, you heave a breath, sitting up and setting both hands on your stomach. The worrying within you is even stronger, as if it’s doubled. You smile sadly at your stomach, talking to your child as if they can hear you. “He’ll be okay, little one,” you assure them. You look to the doorway of the hut again. “We all will.”

You confess this truth, and yet it still hurts, the heightened emotions from your pgranancy even causing you to let a single tear fall in worry for your husband. You clear your throat and brush it away, refusing to let Din see how his behavior has affected you. He already feels guilty enough without having to see your distress.

With a slight struggle thanks to the way your stomach has grown, you stand up from the bed, making it as neat as you can. Wanting a reason to make Din smile somehow and also needing the comfort yourself, you pull one of Din’s shirts over your head, wearing it over a comfortable pair of pants Omera helped you to sew. You finish the rest of your morning routine by the time Din walks back in, holding a dish full of various fruits that you know he still prepared himself—despite being in the armor.

“Would you like to eat inside or outside?” Din asks, gesturing to the open doorway behind him.

“Outside, if that’s okay with you,” you answer, walking towards him with a reassuring smile. You know his gaze isn’t on your face, though, even with the barrier of the helmet. His visor’s fixed on your full form and the sight of your swollen stomach through his shirt. It’s a sight you know he’ll never get over—and one that you hope has made him smile.

“Of course.” Din’s words are soft as he holds the plate with one gloved hand, offering the other to you. You take it and lace your fingers through his, your other hand holding tight to the clothed space between his vambrace and pauldron as he leads you out of the hut.

The Sorgan sun is shining as brilliantly as ever, reflecting off Din’s beskar in a familiar way. The children are already playing outside in their favorite spot and you can see Omera working in one of the ponds nearby. She looks up at the two of you with a smile, though you can see the way her gaze flashes with slight concern at the sight of Din in all his armor. You shrug subtly at her, just enough for Din not to notice.

Din stops in a spot not far from Omera, at the edge of the pond with a beautiful view of the peaceful farm. He helps you to sit before doing the same, keeping the plate in one hand as he starts to offer you slices of fruit with the other. Your heart warms at his insistent and kind service, though your concern for him strengthens when you notice the subtle way his gloved hand shakes. It’s a sure sign of the emotion Din’s keeping trapped within, something you wish you could help him with but knowing you have to wait for his own timing.

Your breakfast is spent in that peaceful silence, though you know both your minds are moving much faster than either one of you can process. It’s only when Din sets aside the empty plate that you gently take one of his hands in yours, trying your best to keep the grimace off your face when you feel how much his trembling has increased.

“Din,” you begin, your voice as soft as can be as you look into his visor. “Thank you for taking care of me—of  _ us _ —this morning.” Din nods, but before he can offer another response, you go on. “But if you need  _ anything _ … please, let me take care of you.”

Din’s visor falls to your hands, watching with full concentration as his free one rises to touch the swell of your stomach. His thumb brushes over the bump as a breath gets caught in your chest. A creeping fear warns you that whatever’s haunting his mind right now has to do with the child within you, making your heart ache more as you wait for his response. “I’ll try.” Din’s voice is so low that it barely passes through the modulator, causing you to hold back a whimper as you remain strong for him. He releases a pained breath. “I’m—.”

“ _ Riduur _ .” You stop him before he can say the word, releasing his hand to hold his helmet instead. You force it against your forehead, making his gaze behind the visor meet yours again as you face him seriously. “No apologies. You don’t need to be sorry for processing. I just want you to know that I’m here to listen if you need me to. Okay?”

Din nods, his gloved hands taking yours and giving them a squeeze. “Okay.” He pulls his helmet away only to lift it enough to kiss your forehead, causing a warm spark of hope to run through you as he runs his hand over the side of your face. “Thank you,  _ cyar’ika _ .”

Every single word he says has a heavy meaning, making you smile at him. You would usually tell him not to thank you, but you don’t want to overwhelm him, instead letting him completely break away from you to start standing up.

“Would you like to stay here for a bit?” Din bends down to also grab the plate, refusing to leave you until he knows what you want to do.

You nod at him. “Yeah, I’ll distract Omera.” You say the words loud enough for her to hear, causing her to laugh softly behind you. Din nods, turning to take the plate back where it belongs. You watch him until he disappears inside the storehouse, twisting your lips as you mindlessly brush your hand over your stomach yet again.

“Bad day today?” Omera asks her question gently, as if she’s not trying to be intrusive. You turn over your shoulder to look at her, moving closer to where she’s still working beside the pond.

“Yeah.” You sigh and look for Din again, watching as he disappears inside your hut. You shake your head aimlessly. “I’m not sure why.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No.” You look at Omera with worried eyes. “I don’t want to push him. He’ll tell me with time.” When you look back at your hut, you can see Din leaving it with the familiar hilt of his new weapon in hand. Training is something Din commonly reverts to when he needs to be distracted—and you assume he wants to make the most of it by using the weapon he isn’t even interested in claiming. “I’m just worried.”

“Grief is a hard thing.” Omera’s voice is full of wisdom as you let her soothe you. “It comes and it goes, but you never know when it’ll hit you again. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like he was hit with a lot of it at once.” She sets a gentle hand on your shoulder. “It won’t be like this forever.” Her gaze flickers to your stomach as she smiles. “Especially once the baby arrives.”

You continue to look at Din, who’s standing farther off in the grassy field that surrounds the outside of the huts. You watch as he ignites the blade of the Darksaber and starts to swing it in an impressive but focused way— _ too  _ focused. “I hope so,” you breathe, your hand giving your stomach another soft brush.

Omera, evidently trying her best to distract you, engages you in conversation that at least slightly eases your mind. Still, your gaze mostly remains on Din as he trains, watching his free hand often clench into a fist as if he’s frustrated with something.

He doesn’t get to train for long before you notice Winta running from the group of children towards him, getting his attention so that she doesn’t startle him. Instantly, Din stops what he’s doing, sheathing the blade and hanging the hilt from his belt as he kneels down to Winta’s level. The sight makes you smile the widest you have today, your heart leaping in your chest as you watch Winta whisper something to the side of his helmet. Din nods and stands, letting Winta guide him over to where she’s just come from.

When Din catches your gaze, he shrugs, making you giggle as he finally stops where all the children are gathered. One of the small ones starts to cling to his leg, almost as if they’re trying to climb it. That’s when you realize the child actually  _ is  _ trying to climb it, with the other children following suit. You attempt to hold back a laugh using your hand, raising your brow as Din stands there for their amusement. Still, as amusing as the sight is to you, it’s also endearing, another bright flash of his paternal instincts that makes you daydream over the sight of him with your baby one day.

“At least he’s well enough to handle  _ that _ ,” Omera says, sharing a joyful look with you before you continue to watch the controlled chaos together.

The children end up distracting Din for most of the day, something that you think is an excellent remedy for him. By the time the Sorgan sun has set, though, Din’s desire to hide himself still hasn’t diminished. He continues to don the helmet as he sits outside underneath the Sorgan stars. The other armor has been put away and the flight suit has been exchanged for his more comfortable clothes, but the sight of the helmet proves there’s still more to be processed.

It’s with a soft breath that you leave where you’ve been finishing up your nighttime routine in the hut, walking over to Din and sitting beside him. The latter is a struggle that Din immediately picks up on, holding his hand out to you in order to help you down. You thank him softly and rest your head against his arm, pleased when he wraps it around your shoulders. Your hand reaches up to lace your fingers with his, giving them a gentle squeeze as Din speaks before you have the chance to.

“I had a nightmare last night,” Din confesses. His modulated voice waivers slightly, but it’s also stronger than before. You look up at his visor that’s staring at the stars, watching as his chest rises and falls with a steady breath. “About the baby.”

You try your best not to frown, your brow wrinkling as you give his hand another squeeze. “Did something happen to them?” Your voice is a soft whisper.

Din shakes his head. “No. Not this time.” He finally looks at you, his voice tight as he goes on. “They…” Din has to pause, but you’re patient as you wait for him to put his thoughts to words, “they were scared.”

“Of what?”

Din swallows hard. “Me.”

You lift your free hand to his helmet, attempting to bring him comfort. “Why would our child ever be scared of you, Din?”

There’s a long and tense pause as you wait for Din to respond. His visor can’t meet your gaze anymore as he looks at the stars again. You wait as patiently as ever, letting your thumb run over his hand repeatedly. “It’s no secret that I… have done things I regret,  _ cyar’ika _ .” Din’s voice is pained in a way that strikes your heart. “Things our child will find out about one day. They’ll see the weapons and wonder why I have them, the scars and ask what happened to the people who dealt them…” Din shakes his head aimlessly. “What if… what if they don’t want to be near me when they finally get their answers?”

“Don’t say that.” Your voice is firm yet loving as you chastise him, pulling his arm tighter around you in an effort to get closer to him. “Din, your child will always want to be near you—and to have _you_ as their father. Nothing will change that. Just look at Grogu.” Din winces slightly when you say the name, causing you to squeeze his hand. “He saw a _lot_ of things go down, but it never affected how much he loved you, did it?” Din shakes his head. “Exactly. The same will go for our child. They’ll know your kind and loving heart and who you _truly_ are underneath all your beskar.” You bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles before finishing. “They’ll see you the same way I did so long ago—and still do.”

Din can’t respond for a while and you don’t expect him to. Instead, he squeezes your hand as you lean even further against him. When he manages to speak, his voice is yet again strained, but this time with an emotion you’ve been waiting for: relief. “Thank you,  _ rid’ika _ . You… always know what to say.” You smile at his words, looking at Din as he gently rests his helmet against your forehead. “You mean  _ everything  _ to me.” His visor falls to your stomach as he goes on. “And so does our baby.”

You giggle at that, pressing a kiss to his beskar cheek before you also look down at your stomach. “Speaking of our baby,” you start, placing your free hand on your bump before you look at Din again, “we really should start thinking of names, my love.”

You can picture the way Din’s brown eyes light up behind his helmet as his shoulders lift excitedly. “Yes, right.” The complete shift in his mood makes you smile wider, listening intently to whatever Din has to say. “Do you have any ideas,  _ ner kar’ta? _ ”

You look at the stars, shrugging nonchalantly as you share your thoughts. “I’ve just been thinking about the idea of home. Home’s always meant a lot to us, you know?”

“I know.” Din looks over at you. “That’s why their middle name should be Arilia.”

Your heart somersaults in your chest as the quick way Din suggested such a sweet thing. “Din,” you whisper, your eyes nearly tearing up at his suggestion.

“I mean it.” Din uses his free hand to cup the side of your face. “I know how much your home meant—and still means—to you. Arilia is a part of you, just like our baby.”

While you’re touched by Din’s words, you can’t help frowning a bit at them. “And they’re also a part of  _ you _ , Din.”

“And you know who else is a part of me?  _ You _ .” Din brushes his thumb over your cheek. “Which means Arilia is also a part of me.”

You can’t force the smile away now as you nod. “Fine. We can make that their middle name.”

Din squeezes your hand in silent celebration at that, letting his hand fall from your face as you both start to silently ponder the bigger question. “Their first name should be… one of  _ our  _ homes.”

You nod at that. “Exactly.”

“Something like—well, Sorgan.”

You hum. “I like that.” You look at him with nothing but pure warmth in your expression. “But I had another idea.”

Din returns your gaze with a tilted helmet. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your smile persists as you share the name you’ve been holding to your heart for longer than you can admit. “Zorra.”

Din’s confusion is evident even through his helmet, though he can tell how much you adore the name—causing him not to speak on it just yet. You nearly giggle as his helmet tilts more. “That name is… beautiful,  _ rid’ika _ .” He pauses, looking out at the stars as if he’s trying to think of where he’s heard that name before. “But what does that have to do with home?”

You give his hand a squeeze. “Think about it,  _ riduur _ .” Din’s silent as he contemplates the name more. After a few long moments of nothing, you decide to prompt him further. “Rearrange the—.”

“Razor.” Din says the word so quietly you nearly miss it. His helmet immediately turns to you as his hold on your hand tightens. “You… you want to name them after the  _ Crest? _ ” His tone is full of awe, the kind that makes your stomach fill with butterflies thanks to his sheer joy and admiration.

“The  _ Crest  _ was our very first home together,” you remind him, smiling wider the more Din physically reacts to your suggestion. “I know you’ve missed her a lot, and I have too, so I thought that it would be a good tribute, no matter whether our child is a—.”

“It’s  _ perfect _ .” Din can’t help himself from saying these words, his modulated voice now wavering as his emotions start to get the best of him. You can hear the joyful tears in his voice, even if you can’t see them through the helmet. Your heart feels as if it’s being tugged in every direction as he goes on. “I—Astra, it’s absolutely  _ p-perfect _ .”

You smile as Din rests his helmet against your forehead. “Yeah?”

Din nods, trying not to move your head around too much. “Yeah.” His voice still wavers as his free hand cups your cheek just like before. “That’s it, then.”

You swallow hard in an attempt to keep your own emotions tucked away. “Zorra?”

Din brushes his thumb over your cheek. “Zorra.”

As soon as Din says the name, you feel fluttering not just in your chest, but also in your stomach—the kind that tells you it’s not  _ you  _ who’s causing the fluttering. Your eyes widen as you set your free hand upon your stomach, feeling something ripple across your hand.

It’s the first time you’ve felt the baby kick.

You’re so caught up in your excitement that you neglect Din’s sudden concern. He releases your hand to instead hold your face with both of his. “What is it,  _ ner kar’ta? _ ” Din questions breathlessly. “If you have a different name you like better, that’s oka—.”

“They kicked!” you exclaim, laughing a bit in your joy as you feel another fluttering in your stomach. Din can’t seem to produce an answer, so you elaborate. “You said their name and they kicked right after!”

Din still doesn’t process your words for a few moments. “They… when I… really?” You can clearly see how everything that's happened in the past few moments has overwhelmed him, causing you to laugh again as you take one of his hands and set it over your stomach.

“Say the name again,” you command softly.

Din’s visor remains fixed on your stomach as he obliges. “Zorra.”

Immediately after, you feel the fluttering return, this time right underneath Din’s hand. You look up at him with an amazed smile, watching as Din freezes with disbelief for many moments. Then, in a quick motion, Din’s other hand rises to his helmet, tearing it off as quickly as he can. He tosses it aside carelessly as you’re now left to clearly see the emotion within him, the watering of his brown eyes and the breathless smile across his lips as he releases a deep breath.

“Zorra,” Din says again, the sound of his voice without the modulator making your heart soar as the baby kicks even harder than before. You meet Din’s gaze of disbelief, watching his lips tremble as he attempts to keep his joyful tears within. Still, he doesn’t keep himself from lowering his head to your stomach, lavishing kisses upon the clothed bump as he holds it with both hands. “Zorra,  _ ad’ika _ , our light and our life— _ ni kar’tayl gar darasuum. _ ”

Din’s emotional words yield quite the reaction as the fluttering intensifies, making you laugh softly at the sensation. He can feel it underneath his hands, making him look up at you as you brush a hand over his mussed hair. “See, Din?” you begin, your voice soft as you smile warmly at him. “Our child already wants to be near you.” You lean forward to kiss his forehead. “They love you so much.”

Din’s hands now rise to your face, taking it between them as he rests his forehead against yours. “They love you, too.” He brushes his nose against yours. “And so do I. More than I could  _ ever _ say.”

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips, kissing him with all the overwhelming love and passion you feel within you. The baby— _ Zorra _ —kicks again with the connection, making you laugh into Din’s mouth as you hold on tighter to him. When you pull away with heavy breaths, you rest your head contentedly in the space between Din’s shoulder and his neck, letting him take you completely into his arms as you wrap your arms around his middle.

In this moment, you have your entire galaxy right in your grasp—and for the first time in a long time, you’re not worried about anything else.


End file.
